check mate
by emilyforprez
Summary: when the rain falls on that night, he knows he's gotten himself into something. d/b, c/s, futurefic.
1. Chapter 1

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **This idea was floating around for so long, but I couldn't bring myself to write it. I suddenly have a major urge to write this that has almost nothing to do with FA's not-so-subtle demands.

* * *

_Make my heart beat, seven, eight, nine.  
Make my heart beat double-time.  
Now I'm the only sour cherry on your fruit-stand, right?  
Am I the only sour cherry on your fruit stand?_

_**sour cherry  
the kills**_

It was raining the night everything changed.

The taxi driver eyed Dan in the rear-view mirror. The car slowly came to a stop as the windshield-wipers continued their monotonous beating against the window. Dan glanced up at the over-sized hotel, still unable to remain unimpressed by the towering shape, seemingly lost in the storm clouds above. He shook himself out of his reverie at the sound of the driver clearing his throat pointedly.

"That'll be $16.50." The driver watched critically as Dan unfolded his wallet, cleanly placing the exact amount in his outstretched hands. "All right," he affirmed, slamming the bills into the dashboard, "have a good one."

"I'll try." Dan grimaced wryly as he stepped out of the cab, rain pelting down to greet him before he shielded himself with an umbrella. With a last queasy glance at the skyscraper still lost in the clouds, he entered through the revolving doors, thankful for the heat that rushed at him.

Serena was waiting for him in the lobby, sifting through a high-class magazine with little interest; Dan knew she was simply feigning to skim through the words. He pocketed his umbrella into his coat and waited until she turned her head to notice him. He didn't have to wait long; in just a few seconds more Serena imperceptibly glanced his way.

The casual, habitual way she regarded him made his heart wrench with regret. After Serena's renewed wild ways of 2009, the two had parted on bad terms, and they had barely spoken much since. He'd received word of her more important deeds; she married Nate Archibald, who'd gone on to become a senator, not too long after he graduated college. He ended up cheating on her with Jenny, which ended in a divorce scandal that the country followed for months.

Other than small snippets of information he received from his little sister, Dan knew nothing of Serena or the life she lived, and was attempting to move away from the past and start over. He got accepted into Dartmouth when he reapplied after NYU and ran with a different circle of friends. As was expected of him, he married a nice girl named Naomi, a physics major. Starting over was the best decision he'd ever made.

It was only this night, when Serena somehow got a hold of him on his landline, that he was summoned to her presence again. Dan had never been able to say no to Serena. He knew it'd get him in trouble someday, but for now he was cautiously awaiting the surprise.

Serena's lips twisted into a pleasant smile and she tossed the magazine carelessly on the table beside her. As she stood up, Dan was once more entranced by the effortless way she moved; after so long of not seeing her, he realized he still wasn't unaffected by her beauty. Shaking himself firmly, he braced himself as she sauntered towards him.

"Dan," Serena greeted in a cool, collected tone; ice seemingly froze her vocal cords. "I'm glad you came." Her voice was too monotone to truly mean what she said, but Dan nodded anyway, not trusting his voice. Serena smiled at him again. "Shall we go?" She gestured vaguely to the rooms above.

Dan tilted his head a bit, narrowing his eyes. "I'm married, Serena." He felt obligated to tell her this. "Whatever you have in mind, I'm not doing it." Might as well get the truth out of the way before she decided to take it into her own hands.

Serena's eyes flashed. "That doesn't matter much to me, does it?" She breezed past him, obviously meaning it as a rhetorical question. "Are you coming, or not?" she threw over her shoulder in a voice that meant he had no choice in the matter.

Dan stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm coming," he sighed resignedly. As he started towards her, he added under his breath, "I don't like it, though."

"You don't have to like it," Serena retorted as the elevator chimed, heralding its arrival.

The ride up to Serena's suite was tensely silent. Dan waited in the corner of the small space, wary of what Serena may try in the enclosed area. He couldn't help think that he was doing something horribly wrong; even if she was being rather patient and platonic with him, the glint in her eyes warned him that she had a brooding plan. It amazed him how much she reminded him of the old Blair, the calculating queen of the Upper East Side. Those times were so far behind them that he'd barely even thought her name in years. He didn't know Serena anymore; perhaps Blair had changed, as well.

"You don't need to worry, Dan," Serena broke through the silence, a hint of amusement behind her words. "I haven't asked you here to jump you." Her eyes traveled his body critically and she shook her head briskly. "Frankly, you aren't my type anymore."

Even though it had been a long while since he was _Serena's type_, her statement still stung. Dan pursed his lips. "Your vocabulary's improved," he bit out scathingly. "You finally pick up a book?"

Serena flinched and Dan regretted being so harsh. Before he could force out an apology, the elevator sang again and the doors slid open soundlessly. Serena tersely straightened herself and walked forward with a toss of her blonde locks, not waiting to see if he would follow. Dan was half-tempted to stay in the elevator, but he managed to follow her without a word.

Serena's suite was not at all like her new-found, frigid manner; it reminded Dan even of the Serena he knew back when they were mere teenagers. The walls were painted a vibrant orange, complete with furniture that matched the soft yellow carpet. He glanced approvingly around the expanse.

"Like what you've done with your life," Dan commented a bit sarcastically. "I'm going to guess you're an interior designer?"

Serena placed her coat on the marble counter, releasing a sigh as she gazed at Dan. "Can you not treat me like a piece of gum on your shoes?" Away from the outside world, her cold appearance was slipping drastically, and he was reminded of the girl he loved in high school.

Dan cracked a sincere smile. "I'm sorry," he sighed honestly. "It's just been so long. I-I don't know how to treat you anymore." That was true enough, he decided.

Serena disappeared underneath the counter for a moment, reappearing with a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes that looked relatively unused. She grinned at Dan. "How about we skip the pleasantries for a moment and have a drink?" That was the Serena-way-of-life, Dan remembered with a flash of warmth towards the semi-stranger in front of him. Memories of their times together flooded him again and he had to shake himself visibly to jar them away.

"Sure, why not?" Dan laughed and settled himself on a black leather chair in front of a fireplace. He hadn't been joking when he'd commented on her decorating skills; the entire place reflected everything about Serena: her warmth and her mystery, the two key parts of her personality. Even after spending so many years with her, he would never know her deepest, darkest secrets, and sometimes he believed it was better that way.

Serena handed him a flute of champagne and sat directly across from him, one leg daintily crossed over the other. The malevolent glimmer was back in her eyes and Dan paused uneasily, swallowing down the alcohol and allowing himself to feel a slight buzz.

Dan leaned forward. "Now, what do you want?" Suddenly, the joking was over, and they were back to the cold strangers they'd been in the lobby.

Serena gently placed her glass on the coffee table, folding her hands slowly in front of her. She hesitated visibly before taking a deep breath and plunging right into her purpose for bringing him here. "I have a proposition for you," she began quickly, her blue eyes steely as they bore into his. "You were the only man who still wants to talk to me."

Dan realized she must have been talking about Nate and Chuck. He knew that after the divorce, Nate wanted nothing to do with her; it was quoted in some newspaper somewhere, and to boot, Jenny boasted about it herself. But Chuck, he didn't know about. He assumed that when Serena leaked Nate's unfaithfulness, Chuck was obligated to hate her. For a brief second he regretted not being in this life anymore; he would never know the inner workings.

"I'm listening," Dan answered wearily. He knew she was waiting for his reply.

Serena smiled widely. "You must know that Blair and I don't talk anymore," she told him with an offhand flick of her wrist. She seemed so indifferent about it, like she was merely mentioning the weather, or asking if he had a pen she could borrow. "We haven't, not since Nate left me, anyway. We got into a fight about it, you know. I was supposed to keep it a secret." She sighed heavily. "I didn't."

Dan absorbed the information greedily. He hadn't known about Blair disowning Serena, or vice verse, but he didn't question the news. Serena could've told him that she'd married a cow; for all he knew about the Upper East Sider's lives, it was true.

"But Chuck and I... we talk." The vague way Serena mentioned it made Dan narrow his eyes. Serena seemed to notice his skepticism, and she smirked at him; a smirk far too familiar to belong to her. "I suppose I'll get on with it. Chuck and I are having an affair."

"I wasn't expecting that," Dan blurted instantly. His head reeled with the information; he'd perhaps noticed a hint of attraction between the two, but that was back when they were just teenagers. They were immature then. By now, surely the cheating for no reason would end? Dan shook his head, dazed. "I really, _really_ wasn't expecting that. Not since..." Well, not since they were kids.

Serena took a tiny sip of her champagne, placing it down again with a sigh. "No, I guess you wouldn't, would you?" There was a biting tone behind her words; she was yet again referring to the way he'd detached himselves from their lives. Before Dan could retort, Serena went on, "But it's true. And it's just _so_ unfortunate, now, that he has Blair, isn't it?" The cold way she spoke made Dan shiver. Somehow, this was going to involve him.

"I suppose it is," Dan replied evasively, leaning back on the chair. "But what does this have to do with me?"

Serena's glazed eyes were suddenly back in focus again, and she blinked attentively at him, as if just remembering that he was there. "Oh, yes, that's right." She laughed innocently, back to the carefree girl she'd been. Her blue eyes were warm as she gazed at him, shining with hope. "I love Chuck," she told him honestly, provoking his gag reflex. "But he doesn't want to _hurt Blair_..."

Dan's blood turned to ice.

"...so this is where you come in." Serena steepled her hands. "Dan, I need you to break them up."

Dan's initial reaction was disgust. "Blair? Blair Wa... _Bass_?" His eyes grew wide and he couldn't help a disbelieving laugh to escape his lips. "The girl hates me." Without waiting for Serena to answer, Dan continued, "And why would I? _How_ would I? I have a wife and a job and a life, Serena. I can't go around destroying marriages, especially when Blair really loves Chuck. You said it yourself!"

"I said it when we were teenagers," Serena argued with a flash of anger in her eyes. "I didn't know any better. Blair and Chuck won't ever work out; see for yourself. He's already cheating on her. And he has before," she added when Dan opened his mouth to speak. "He told me so."

"And I'm sure he _also_ told those other call-girls that he loved _them_, too," Dan retorted, rolling his eyes skeptically. "You're going after a guy who has a wife who he loves very, very much." His tone was more high-pitched now with desperation; he knew Serena would have something up her sleeve to force him to do this for her. "He's not going to leave Blair for you. He loves her. I'm sure they're very happy."

Serena's mouth gaped open with shock, but the sliver of surprise faded before Dan could register it. She sniffed haughtily. "You're wrong," she declared stubbornly. "He _doesn't_ love her anymore. And they _aren't_ happy."

Dan shrugged his shoulders despondently. "Sure, whatever you say," he humored her. "But even if that's true, _which_ I doubt it is, you won't have my assistance in the matter. Find some other gullible guy to help screw over your former best friend."

"I don't _need_ to find another one." The anger and distress was out of Serena's voice in an instant, replaced with a quiet calmness. Dan tensed. She was about to play a card he didn't know about yet. "You see, Dan, there's this thing called money," Serena sighed, feigning casualty, "and I happen to _know_ you and your wife - what was it, Naomi? - don't have enough."

Dan sucked in a breath, apprehensive.

"I checked it all," Serena went on carelessly, the manipulative gleam back to her blue gaze. "You're late on your mortgage, your electric bill... you're nearly bankrupted." Serena listed the facts as if she could care less about what happened to him. Dan felt a twist in his gut.

"I'm still writing my book, Serena," Dan mumbled weakly, attempting to defend himself, "and Naomi and I work a cleaning business..." The words sounded hollow to his own ears. Despite his misgivings about Serena's plan, and his own happiness in his life, he and his wife were having issues with money. They had been relatively broke for years now, though Dan managed to keep it a secret from his family. How Serena came by with the information surprised him, but she must've hired someone to do it for her.

Serena downed the rest of her drink. "I could help with that, you know. But that would require a favor from you, and I think you know what I want." She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to gauge his reaction. "I have money, Dan. You don't. And all I need is one little _favor_..."

Dan swallowed uneasily, weighing the options carefully. What harm would it do to go along? After all, he knew for an almost certain fact that he would fail, and Serena would surely pay him for his quality efforts. It was a win-win situation for him. There was no love lost between him and Chuck, either, and from the way Serena had secretively planned this, he knew that Chuck didn't know what was in store. Perhaps this could be the turn-around he was waiting for; the gates to a better life.

Serena waited patiently for an answer, a smile quirking the corners of her lips. She obviously knew what his reply was going to be before he'd even decided.

Dan cursed himself inwardly as he took a breath and sighed, "All right."

The malicious smile stretched taut across Serena's lips and Dan couldn't help believing that he'd just made a deal with the devil.


	2. Chapter 2

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **It's got a nice reception and the storyline makes me want to cream my pants. Enjoy.

* * *

_And, my God, what do we have here?  
I've been trying hard and you've been dying hard for years now.  
Well, I swear I did it all.  
I'll always be my best flaw._

_**alice and interiors  
manchester orchestra**_

There was a plan behind it. In Dan's absence, Serena admitted she'd become just like the old Blair; calculating and manipulative. "Ever since Nate left me, really," Serena'd confessed in a whisper, making Dan believe that perhaps she wasn't as unaffected by his leaving as she pretended to be. Yet he didn't question her; "I'm not paying you to interview me, Dan, I'm paying you to get what I want."

It was such a Blair-esque answer - and so far from the closeness they'd valued as teenagers - that Dan had almost smiled cruelly to himself. Despite how happy his life had turned out to be since turning over a new leaf, he would be the first to admit that he missed Serena. He'd missed their sincere, long talks in the night, when he could always be sure she wasn't lying to him. That was her flaw: brutal honesty. Now that she'd been flung back into his life unexpectedly, she'd change so much that Dan no longer knew who he was talking to.

Shaking off the thoughts with a brisk toss of his head, Dan again found himself in a cab outside of a marvelous hotel, though this time there were no rain clouds or lightning to announce his arrival. Instead, it was in the warm afternoon, the sun risen above the skyscraper. The taxi driver was a different man as well, with scruff on his chin and a baseball cap twisted to the side.

"You're fine's been paid already," the driver informed Dan before he could open his wallet. Dan blinked confusedly at the driver's reflection, but then allowed a grim smile adorn his lips. It must've been Serena. She was already starting to pay him for his efforts.

Dan nodded thankfully, replacing his wallet back into his jean pockets. He'd had only a few dollars left, anyhow; it was a relief not having to pay the fee. "I'll be going then." Dan forced a pleasant smile at the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He gazed up at the floors of this hotel: _The Empire._ He'd heard much about it, yet he'd never been fortunate enough to step inside.

With a deep breath, Dan pushed past the revolving doors and into the lobby. He was surprised to see that the furnishings were much nicer than Serena's hotel, though he knew that it _was_ Chuck's hotel, after all; his sense of style had not been forgotten even after the years of not laying eyes on him.

"Their penthouse is on the sixteenth floor. Remember what I told you." Serena's voice echoed in his mind, laced with the unmistakable tone of maliciousness and gloating. She'd known that she had Dan by his little puppet strings. He would do anything she told him as long as it would help he and Naomi.

Inwardly, Dan groaned at himself. The sum was sure to be a high amount, but Dan had no idea what would come of destroying Blair's marriage. That was even if he succeeded in the task; he still held his doubts that he could do _anything _to affect the union that Blair coveted so much, even if Chuck didn't stay faithful. After all, he _was_ just lowly Dan Humphrey. Even after all these years of absence, they would never forget the Brooklyn stench that clung to his clothes.

And - what if he did succeed? What would happen to Blair? Dan felt no warmth towards the former Waldorf, but even he couldn't find the justice of destroying her life and letting it crumble to pieces for money.

But Dan's final worry was the worst of all: _how_ could he go about completing his aptly-named "mission?" Of course, Serena had her ideas about that, but she'd been unwilling to share them with him. She'd simply smiled mysteriously and shoved him out into the hallway, handing him a note with her number. "I'll be in touch." With that, the door was slammed in his face and he was left to stare at the slip of paper.

_Don't mess up_, it read, along with several digits and an address to _The Empire._

Dan sighed and eyed the lobby with interest. This was going to be his supposed home for the next... however long it took, and he might as well get familiar with his surroundings. Serena told him that the plan was surefire to work. Dan didn't voice his doubts, but they churned uneasily in his stomach.

The small slip of paper burned a hole in his pocket. _Don't mess up._

With a last furtive glance around the lobby, Dan started towards the elevator, entering in with an elderly man waiting for the third floor. Impatience buzzed in Dan's feet as he tapped them against the hardwood flooring, scanning the buttons for the sixteenth floor and watching it flash incessantly as he pressed. The smallest motions were burning his shoes. He hated this, the indecision, the _waiting._ Dan would never know if it was worth it.

As the older gentleman exited the elevator, Dan was relieved to see that he was alone, and able to process his thoughts clearly. He hadn't been able to fully decide what he was going to say. Serena had told him the story to use: "Naomi kicked you out and no one else will take you in. Blair's a bitch, but she's not heartless." Yet he still hadn't prepared his speech.

Dan was still rearranging his thoughts when the elevator chimed unexpectedly and he had no choice but to wing it. The doors slid open slowly to reveal the two - Blair and Chuck both, dressed to go out - waiting for the elevator; shock rippled up his spine as Dan faced them. He hadn't thought it would happen this quickly.

It took a moment for them to register his appearance, but it was Blair who first spoke, her nose scrunched up snobbishly and her eyes wide. "_Humphrey_?" she asked incredulously, peering at him closely and wincing. "Yep, that's you. Still smell like Brooklyn." Suddenly, she seemed to realize the significance. "I almost didn't recognize you past that stubble. What are you doing here?"

Chuck said nothing, though a protective arm came to wrap around Blair's waist as he stared at Dan challengingly.

Dan's mouth went dry at their stares. Of course, he should have known it would never work. He was a fool for even accepting this task. Yet still, Dan moistened his lips slightly and managed a, "M-My wife kicked me out. And, ah, I went to Serena, but you know, she... she doesn't want much to do with me." He looked away, attempting to hide his tell-tale eyes, giving away the blatant lie. "And, I went to, um, my other friends... yeah, it didn't work, so I was thinking..." Everything was coming out in a stutter as Dan forced himself to meet their glares. "Look, I know there's almost no friendship between us, ah, but I was hoping... look, I need a place to stay."

Dan tried to hide the way a relieved gust of air pushed past his lips. He was thrilled that he even managed to force the words out. And, from their faces, they were merely shocked he'd even come to them.

It was Chuck that broke the tense silence. "Where the hell is your luggage?" He craned his neck to look past in case they were hiding in the elevator, but there was nothing. He met Dan's worried gaze critically.

Dan swallowed. "Naomi - that's my wife... or, ex-wife, or something - pushed me out with nothing." He tried to fake a smile, but it came out as a grimace. As a writer, Dan's forte was telling the ugly truth, not lying through his teeth, even if it was for a high amount of money. He _hated _to lie; it always scorched such a terrible trail in his throat.

Blair crossed her arms and darted her gaze questioningly to Chuck. It didn't surprise Dan that Blair wore the pants in the marriage, as was obvious by the way Chuck dipped his head to allow her to make the decision. Dan couldn't possibly see Blair being ordered around. It was part of what made him admire her in the first place, despite the immature way she handled her life: by destroying others.

Blair looked back at Dan, cocking her head to the side slowly. Finally, she straightened herself, released a resigned sigh, and gestured to the penthouse behind her. "I would say _make yourself at home_, but if you start coating the furniture with flannel, I will never forgive you."

Dan stood dumbstruck for a moment, unable to believe that the carefully-devised plan worked after all. It wasn't that he doubted Serena - or at least the _new_ Serena he'd been forced to acquaintance himself with - but rather his own acting skills. And the _lies_, however easy to believe they could be, weren't delivered with confidence in the least.

Blair's eyes narrowed with annoyance. "If you aren't on our carpet within the next five seconds, this offer is off the table and you can go sleep on a park bench," she snapped. Dan hurried past her; he wasn't one to question Blair when she looked murderous. Obviously, she was skeptical about letting him stay there, but she wasn't going to turn him away. Serena had told him that Blair was like a mother hen; it had just taken him this long to believe her.

Chuck glanced at Blair. "Are we still going to go?"

Dan instantly felt remorse for ruining their night.

Blair sighed and shook her head, disappointed. "No. I don't trust Humphrey." Her words were given with a teasing smile flashed in Dan's direction. "And we need to get him some actual clothes. I don't like the whole hobo look on him. It doesn't work." She frowned, eyes traversing Dan's wardrobe with distaste.

Defensively, Dan muttered, "This is my good shirt." It wasn't entirely true, but the banter - rather than the yelling, screaming, hitting, etc. that he'd expected - was relieving. It surprised him enough to realize that Blair and Chuck were treating him with more warmth than Serena did. But, that was Serena these days, Dan reflected; he didn't dare ask Blair if she understood why Serena was being so cold lately. He was sure that would blow away the whole disguise.

_Don't mess up._ The note was still slipped in his pocket, with her number in case he needed to call. It was the only "personal" item Dan had brought other than his cell phone, which he used to call Naomi. He'd told his wife that he was away discussing business offers with an old friend of his, and he would call periodically, but wouldn't be back until further notice. Naomi had accepted his words as gospel, even told him that she loved him. Dan _hated_ lying to her, but he found no other solution.

Blair watched Dan critically as he gazed around the room, feeling out of place. Dan met her stare as evenly as he could. He'd almost forgotten what a bitch she could be when she wanted to be; _almost, _that is. The majority of his teenage years were centered around Blair being a bitch.

"You can sleep on the sofa." Blair nodded towards the leather couch. "Chuck, go get him a blanket." The order was barked out decisively. Dan could suddenly see what Serena meant when she said that they were no longer happy in their marriage, and he winced inwardly.

Dan was left alone in the living room with Blair, uneasiness twisting his gut.

"Humphrey," Blair began slowly, as if reluctant to say what came to mind. That was unlike the Blair that Dan remembered; perhaps she'd changed, as well. "When you saw Serena... how was she? Was she different somehow?" The words came out hesitantly, as a tentative whisper. Dan realized that she hadn't wanted to say them with Chuck in the room.

Dan blinked steadily at Blair. "She looked good," he admitted, understanding that Blair hadn't seen her former best friend in a long while. "I guess, in some ways, she's still the same Serena. But..." He paused, wondering how much he should say. "She's a bit... colder now? I-I mean, she turned me away without even asking me how I was, you know? And... I don't know." There was some truth behind his statements. "I don't know," he repeated softly. "I missed her, but she just looked like she'd had it with me. But I wasn't there long enough to tell."

Blair's eyes were wide as she took in the information, then she nodded warily. "I'd thought so," she sighed, looking away. If Dan wasn't looking for it, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to notice that she was close to crying. Blair shook herself. "Well, what's done is done."

At that moment, Chuck entered the room, giving Blair an excuse not to talk.

"Here," Chuck grunted, handing Dan a blanket. "Do you prefer "Cabbage Patch" or "Dan" these days?" At least there was some warmth behind Chuck's tone; Dan hadn't expected much at all.

Dan took the blanket, managing to smile sincerely. "Dan, these days, actually. I know it's a shock." Not waiting for a reply, Dan added quickly, "Look, uh, I'm really tired... is it alright if I just sleep early?" From the blinds in the window view, Dan could see the sun was beginning to set.

Blair shrugged carelessly. "Go ahead. We won't bother you." With that, she took Chuck's hand and dragged him out of the living room. The door to their bedroom shut with a sharp click that rang through the living room.

Dan was left staring around the room, hands fisted in a blanket and lies still tasting bitter on his tongue.


	3. Chapter 3

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I'm glad that the first two chapters got such great response. My writing style in this definitely differs from my usual writing style; it's a bit more drawn out, and it's a lot of fun to write it. The point of view will generally be Dan, but there will be some of Serena, too.

* * *

_You take the breath right out of me.  
You left a hole where my heart should be.  
You've gotta fight just to make it through.  
'Cause I will be the death of you._

_**breath  
breaking benjamin**_

The night was relatively young when Serena waited outside of her hotel, heeled toe tapping impatiently against the concrete as she craned her neck to catch view of a limo in the distance. She could see the dark tinted windows almost immediately. A smile broke out across her lips and she waved her hand over her head, a sign that she was waiting for him.

Chuck's limo came to a slow halt and the door was opened from the inside for access. Serena's gaze darted around tentatively, just to be sure she wasn't being watched, before she slipped inside and slammed the door after her.

"Fancy meeting you here," Chuck drawled sarcastically, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He dragged his gaze impolitely up and down Serena's form. She felt a slight flush of red blossom on her cheeks, traveling down her body with swift ease. "Really, I just wasn't _expecting_ this sort of encounter." Dropping the facade, Chuck leaned forward to press a languid kiss against Serena's neck.

Serena sighed happily, squirming underneath his hands. "I've missed you," she confessed, allowing her cold exterior to slip away in his presence. He leaned back to stare at her and she met his gaze defiantly. "You can never seem to get away from her anymore."

Chuck smirked widely. "Blair's been... _demanding_ a lot from me lately," he supplied, attempting to distract her with his hands curled in her hair, alternatively playing with the locks. "And it's all because we have one unexpected visitor taking all my time." There was tense annoyance in Chuck's voice now, and he frowned deeply, pausing from his messing with Serena's hair.

Serena tried to suppress a gloating grin of achievement. So her plan had worked after all, and Dan was currently in the heart of their marriage. Even though Serena knew her plan was nearly fool-proof, she'd doubted Dan's ability to pull it off well, but this news from Chuck proved that he _had_. Serena resisted clapping her hands with barely-restrained excitement. She knew to expect more of Dan in the future.

Feigning disinterest, Serena blinked innocently and asked, "A visitor? Who?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "You'll never believe it." When Serena didn't answer right away, he swept right on with, "It's Humphrey. He showed up at our penthouse in his best Matthew McConaughey impression and asked for a place to stay. Apparently, his wife kicked him out." At that, Chuck actually managed to laugh. "I can't blame the poor girl if she wanted someone with more personality and less stubble."

Serena found it very hard to remain a straight face. "Oh, Dan," she murmured, as if remembering something. "He came by my suite, actually. I turned him away. It's just been so long, you know?" Serena hadn't particularly thought out that part of the plan, but she knew Chuck would believe almost anything she told him.

Chuck smiled genuinely at Serena. "And here I thought you'd pounce on the chance to have him back." He was obviously teasing, but there was a flash of something like unease in his eyes when he spoke, and Serena caught a glimpse of the vulnerability Chuck swore he never had.

"_Chuck_," Serena sighed exasperatedly, unable to help a grin to stretch across her lips in the darkness. "How many times are we going to go through this?" When Chuck didn't answer, Serena went on, "I want _you._ If I wanted somebody else, I could _have_ somebody else in a snap of my fingers." This was true. Years of maturity hadn't harmed Serena's charm and beauty. "Stop worrying so much." To accentuate her words, she pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "I'm not _worrying_," he replied defensively, his fingers stretching across Serena's thigh and tracing tiny circles into her skin. "I'm just _thinking_, that's all." He allowed his guard to drop down for a moment. "But I know you're not happy that I haven't decided to leave Blair yet."

Serena stiffened. Suddenly, his palm against her thigh didn't feel so warm, but rather ice cold. However much she could deny it, Serena knew that Chuck was well aware of her not-so-subtle urgings of him to leave Blair. She'd been "the other woman" in a political scandal before; she'd even been the piteous _wife_ in a political scandal before; she'd played both cards. Now that she was forced to play a hand she wasn't sure about yet, it only resulted in her nearly _begging_ Chuck to divorce Blair. Serena had tried _everything_.

Her final plan, though, she thought with a victorious surge through her veins, was going to be the last. Dan would break apart Chuck and Blair's marriage and Serena could have Chuck all to herself, without sneaking around and worrying about tabloids.

Shaking off the warm, triumphant thoughts, Serena blinked back at Chuck, momentarily confused as to what they were talking about. Then, "Yes, I'm _unhappy_, but I'm not angry about it." Serena felt the lie worm its way out of her. She laughed at Chuck to hide the blatant fib. "I'm not unhappy enough to leave you, Chuck." Serena could never be that unhappy.

With a contemplative sigh, Chuck nodded reluctantly. "All right," he agreed solemnly, though he looked anything but relieved at Serena's statements. With her track record, Serena thought glumly, how could he? Chuck leaned forward, immediately hiding his unease as he kissed her, easing through her icy tentativeness. "I'm sorry it's been so long," he murmured sincerely against her lips, one arm coming to loop around her waist and pull her towards him. "Believe me, I don't mean to be away from you too often."

Serena settled herself on Chuck's lap, unable to bring herself to be angry at him. It'd always been like that, she reflected, ever since their elicit affair started. It had began when Blair was visiting Eleanor's. Serena had come to their penthouse in hopes of coaxing Blair into being her friend again, wielding champagne and a friendly smile, but was met with Chuck drinking alone in the living room.

After a few too many shots and an entire bottle of vintage champagne, it ended with Serena straddling Chuck on the expensive leather, on rebound from Nate. She hadn't realized it'd come to this; falling in love with the insufferable bastard that had always seemed to belong to her best friend.

As it was, Serena never did get the chance to apologize to Blair, and even had begun to hate her for having Chuck when Serena could not. Serena would of course be the first to say that her relationships never ended well, but she found hope that perhaps, this time, she'd found someone worth staying for.

When Chuck pressed butterfly kisses down her neck, Serena found herself releasing a relieved sigh. "I know you don't," she murmured distractedly, her back bowing. "That's just the way it is." _Not for long._

Chuck let out a rumble of laughter into Serena's skin. "And you're strung so tight..." He trailed off as Serena felt a tiny vibration against her thigh, forcing her to leap back with a yelp of surprise. Chuck cursed underneath his breath and fumbled around in his pockets to pull out his cell-phone. He swallowed. "It's Blair."

Serena instantly felt as if icy water had doused her insides as Chuck took a deep breath and answered. "Hi, baby," he greeted warmly, voice dripping with (false?) affection. "I was just thinking about you."

Even though Serena knew Chuck was probably lying for Blair's sake, she couldn't help but give a sharp intake of breath at the statement. What if that was true? Perhaps, she thought warily, Chuck really _was_ thinking about Blair as he kissed her; it would make so much sense, after all. But Serena forced herself to look at the situation rationally and attempted to wave past the matter.

"I'm at a business meeting," Chuck was saying calmly, lying through his teeth. "I'll be home soon." There was a pause on the other end. No matter how hard Serena strained her ears, she couldn't hear Blair's reply. Chuck released a sigh. "Sounds promising," he murmured back to whatever it was Blair said, and Serena immediately felt her ego plummet tenfold.

As Chuck flipped his phone off, he tried to go back to kissing her, but Serena rolled off of him with a groan, no longer pliant.

Chuck stared at her, eyes flashing in the darkness. "I'm sorry," he mumbled weakly. Even though he sounded sincere, Serena still couldn't bring herself to believe him. She'd learned to be careful what she took as gospel anymore; if no one else, Trip and Nate had both taught her that lesson. Chuck frowned. "I _am_," he added before she could reply, as if forcing her to believe him.

Serena rolled her eyes and turned to glare at him. "Forgive me if a call from your _wife_ turns me off," she snapped, patience wearing thin. "Especially when you try to pretend it didn't even happen." It was the same argument they'd had for months. At first, Serena was content just being with him, even if it meant she would have to share him. But it was only recently that she'd begun to want _all_ of him, and not just little snippets of time together.

"I wasn't trying to _pretend_ it didn't happen," Chuck retorted. "I was trying to _avert your attention_ from the matter."

Serena crossed her arms. "You can't just sweep it under the rug, Chuck," she sighed, the fire drawn out from her limbs. "It's not that easy, and you know it. It's going to hang over us until it's resolved. You know that as well as I do." Serena looked down, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Chuck shook his head slowly, his eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking decidedly pained with the whole situation. "It doesn't _have_ to be that way," he argued contemplatively. "I _will_ divorce Blair. You know that. But why can't we just enjoy the time we have now?"

"Stop it, Chuck," Serena shot back, smoothing down the rumples in her dress. "Stop acting like I'm worrying about nothing. You can't have your cake and eat it too." Even as Serena allowed herself to get wrapped up in the impending fight, she still held her agenda close. It was all just a part of the plan. Soon there would be no indecision; only precious time.

"I'm sorry," Chuck murmured quietly. "But I can't divorce Blair, not just yet. My company is in full swing. The last thing I need right now is a scandal involving my wife and a _mistress._" He added the last word with a slight chuckle, meaning to tease.

Serena bit her lip. "I know." She did. But soon, it all wouldn't matter; soon, he would forget he'd ever loved Blair _Bass._ Serena shook off the thoughts. "I know. I'm sorry." She allowed herself to be wrapped into his embrace again, uncertainty weighing down her shoulders. The fight may be phony, but the acting was _real_; Serena would never be able to let go of the fact that she was "the other woman" once again.

Chuck dropped a kiss into her hair. "It'll all work out. You'll see," he promised lowly. For a moment, Serena was able to believe him, but only after the reminder of the plan; the game that would win her what she wanted.

Serena _always_ got what she wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **People are concerned about how OOC this is, but rest assured, there's a reason behind it all.

* * *

_Breathe in, breathe out,  
tell me all of your doubts.  
And everyone bleeds this way,  
just the same._

_**breathe in breathe out  
mat kearney**_

**FOUR YEARS AGO;**

"Nate, we can talk about this," Serena pleaded desperately, stumbling over her own shoes to follow Nate through the suite. "Nate! Slow down!"

Nate paused at the doorway, his shoulders slumping as he took a deep breath. Two hastily-packed suitcases were teetering from his hands, with a briefcase shoved between the crook of his upper arm and side. He turned to face Serena. His eyes flared ice-cold fury; his mouth was set into a grim line. "I have nothing to say to you, Serena." His voice was taut and barely-suppressed with rage, attempting to stay calm and collected.

Serena felt tears spring unexpectedly into her eyes. She feebly reached for her husband, recoiling when he flinched from her touch. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, vigorously rubbing her eyes, her tears leaving streaks on her red cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to have this happen... I just thought, you'd deserve -"

"We've already discussed it!" Nate slammed his bags onto the floor and faced her head-on. "And you _leaked it_ to the press." He scoffed with disbelief, shaking his head. "Look, we've already had this fight. I don't know _why_, but I'm not in love with you. Not now, not ever before." Nate raked a hand frustratedly through his hair, sighing. "And you can't _bribe_ me to love you with the tabloids."

Serena clenched her fist, trembling. "You _cheated on me_. I deserve to do whatever I want!" she declared, lifting her chin stubbornly. "You deserve all the punishment you can get for destroying this marriage." Tears welled in the corners of her eyes again. "What is it with your family, Nate? Both you _and_ Trip are liars," she whispered, all the fight drawn out.

Nate stiffened. "And I've already apologized," he mumbled, though there was uncertainty and regret in his tone. "We agreed to let it be. We _agreed_ to get a quiet divorce with no one aware of the scandal." Anger dripped back into his voice. "And what do you do? You tell the entire nation how unfaithful I am. You did_ interviews_; you blasted Jenny's name all over the newspapers."

Serena looked away. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Nate," she muttered mutinously. "If anything, you should be apologizing to _me._"

Nate scoffed. "Why don't you get real, Serena? We were never in love." Nate cursed underneath his breath, managing to meet her stare with level eyes. "This is pure jealousy; nothing more. You didn't even want the political life."

"But I stood by you!" Serena countered. "I stood by you because I wanted to be with you. Love wasn't part of it; i-it would come later. That's just how it always was going to be with -"

"I love Jenny, and that had nothing to do with marriage," Nate sighed. "You've nearly ruined my career, Serena. I have _nothing to say to you_." With that, Nate grabbed his suitcases and turned around again. Serena was left staring at his retreating form as the door slammed shut.

"Nate!" Serena screamed, desperately pounding on the door in hopes it would bring him running back to her. But there was nothing, just the tiny echoing footsteps in the narrow corridor. If Serena opened the door, she was sure she'd catch only the last glimpse of his back as the elevator enclosed him.

"Nate..." With a last feeble wail of his name, Serena was alone, nothing to remind her of his presence except for the warmth in her stomach and the tiny kicking movements against her skin.

It was only the next week that Serena was drumming her fingers impatiently against a cold metal chair, sitting alone in a waiting room with young teenagers surrounding her. She bit anxiously at her left fingernails, destroying her perfected manicure as she strained her ears to hear her name. No matter how many times she had to coach herself to go through with this, she never expected to feel so hollow, or so broken, for it.

"Um," a young woman in a white coat cleared her throat, glancing at a clipboard and casting her eyes quickly around the room. "We have a Serena van der Woodsen?" She appeared nervous; Serena guessed she was new.

Serena released a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Here," she whispered tentatively, raising her hand a bit. "That would be me." She attempted a feigned smile that looked much too like a grimace to pull it off.

The woman smiled, yet Serena could see it was false. Just from staring into the dark brown gaze, Serena knew the woman pitied her to no end, sympathized with her. She placed a comforting hand on Serena's shoulder. "It always hurts to do this," she murmured softly, eyes wide and idealistic, "but you'll be fine." With a last squeeze, the moment was over and the woman turned away again, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Follow me."

Serena trailed after the doctor, hands flat and clutching her jeans. She had to force herself to breathe evenly, sucking in deep breaths and releasing the heavy gusts of air. Though this was the best decision - and Serena knew it was; she couldn't do this alone and ruin the baby's life - she felt as if the twisting of regret and guilt in her lungs would never end. She'd never thought she'd be here. It never seemed to add up in the grand scheme of her life.

Shaking off the thoughts briskly, Serena entered a cold white room, goosebumps immediately appearing on her arms as she gazed around. It reminded her vaguely of a hospital room, yet it seemed far more foreboding and ominous; a life, no matter how small, would be taken here. Serena's heart thumped uneasily against her ribcage.

"You can sit right there," the woman nodded towards the small cot in the corner of the room. "Just relax. We'll be with you in a mere moment." She offered a placating smile and gently shut the door.

Serena forced herself to remain calm as she settled herself uncomfortably on the cot, staring up at the ceiling with tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She wondered if this was how Lily had felt all those years ago; either to choose to kill her baby or give it away. Serena wished there was another alternative. She didn't want to take a life; she _wasn't heartless_. But how would she bear giving the baby up for adoption? How would she _not_ get attached to the tiny life form in her arms?

Serena muffled a sob in her throat, choking. Nate wasn't aware that he'd left a baby in his wake. Afraid to tell him amidst his affair with Jenny, Serena had kept the news to herself, silently relishing in the warmth steadily beginning to fill her belly. She thought that she could tell Nate at the right time; that it would force him to stay with her just long enough to take care of the baby.

It hadn't worked out that way. Instead, this was how it was all going to end: laying on a white bed in a white room with goosebumps on her arms and ache in her heart.

Serena pressed her hands into the bulge of her stomach, feeling the hard firmness of a life against her palm. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. "I'm sorry, baby." It wasn't enough to make up for what she was about to do, but it was all she could say, cradling her baby bump with tender gentleness. "I wish so much that it could be different."

There was no reply; Serena had not expected one. There was only deafening silence.

Unexpectedly, the door clicked open and Serena started at the sight of a man slowly appearing. He carried a clipboard in his left hand with a pen in his right. "Serena van der Woodsen?" he asked politely, glasses perched upon his nose.

Serena swallowed thickly, nodding her head mutely. She wasn't able to trust her voice.

The doctor sighed heavily and placed the clipboard down, folding his hands in front of him. "How far along are you?" he questioned perfunctorily, settling himself on a chair directly across from the bed. He gazed steadily at Serena, as if unaffected by the deeds at hand.

"Four months," Serena murmured quietly, closing her eyes in remembrance of the night she found out. She'd been late on her period for several days, yet she believed it only to be a little fluke. It was only when Blair shoved a pregnancy test in her hand that Serena took it to find that she _was_, in fact, pregnant. The two best friends had shared the news excitedly.

The doctor nodded. "All right, then," he affirmed, crossing his arms. "Just lay back. It'll all be over soon."

Serena closed her eyes and willed away the entire situation.

It was the next day that Blair found out. It was impossible for Serena to keep secrets from her best friend, no matter how hard she could try. She had been sitting in her living room - alone, as was per usual these days - sifting through a magazine, when a rapid-succession thud against the door announced Blair's arrival. Serena tossed the magazine aside and went to greet her friend, yet as soon as the door was open, Blair stormed past.

"When were you going to tell me that you got rid of your baby?" Blair snapped with force, crossing her arms defiantly with her eyes blazing furious fire. "You know, at that shady _abortion_ clinic not too far from here?" Blair slammed a pamphlet on the coffee table; Serena could see it belonged to the clinic, and she swallowed uneasily.

"What, did you follow me?" Serena retorted, hiding her nervousness behind a barbed comment. "I thought those days were behind us, B."

Blair's lips were set into a thin, barely-controlled line. She dug through her purse for something and grasped it, throwing a newspaper on the table. Serena craned her neck and her blood turned to ice. On the front page of the politics section, there was a grainy black-and-white photo of her entering the clinic, with the caption, 'Former Miss Archibald Makes An Appointment.'

A choked cry tore from Serena's lips. "How did that get there?" she whispered hoarsely, snatching the paper off the table and gazing at it with wide, disbelieving eyes. She glanced up at Blair, who was staring at her with rage smoldering in in her irises.

"I don't know, S, maybe it's the fact that you're still not out of the limelight." Blair sighed and grabbed the paper from Serena's grasps. "You're going to be "Former Miss Archibald" for a long, long time, Serena." She tossed the paper back onto the table and took Serena's trembling hand. "S, you can tell me anything. Why wouldn't you tell me _this_?"

Serena wrenched her hand away. "It's none of your business," she shot back, eyes turning cold. "It was my decision, not yours." Though it was technically true, Serena felt regret tearing at her insides. Blair was her best friend; it just hadn't been the time to tell her. She knew that Blair would be disapproving of the situation altogether.

Blair lifted her chin. "It concerns me because it concerns _you_," she snapped, crossing her arms. "I know you're not heartless, Serena... this must've been a tough decision. Why didn't you let me help?"

"I didn't need your help," Serena muttered, glancing away. "I'm fine."

Blair opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She stared speechlessly at Serena for a moment, then simply shook her head sadly, unable to look at her. "You could have told me," she whispered furiously. "I could have helped." Blair glanced up again. "But if you don't need it, then I'm done. I'm gone. Good luck." She nodded towards the newspaper and retreated with a subtle turn of her heel.

Serena stared as her best friend slammed the door shut and felt the unwarranted tears springing to her eyes. She pressed her hands to her stomach and stumbled back onto the couch, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to no one; not her best friend, not her husband, not the baby she killed.


	5. Chapter 5

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **What were Dan and Blair doing while Chuck and Serena went to play?

* * *

_Let me see you stripped down to the bone.  
Let me hear you speaking just for me.  
Let me see you stripped down to the bone.  
Let me hear you crying just for me._

_**stripped  
shiny toy guns**_

Condensation fogged the mirror as Dan exited the shower, slinging a towel over his shoulder and whistling quietly to himself. It had only been a week or so since he took up residency in Chuck and Blair's penthouse, and already he was finding himself growing accustom to their way of living. Always one to study, Dan often took comfort in watching their daily rituals.

It was usually Blair who woke up first, as when Dan's phone alarm went off at nine, she was already awake and drinking coffee. Chuck usually slept longer, or, on most occasions, wasn't home at all. Dan knew from his own intuition that Chuck was with Serena, but Blair always answered, "Business," when he asked.

Just before noon, Blair ordered fruit from room service and typed something on the computer. Dan never asked what she was doing. He might as well be a stranger to them, after all; although years of absence from the Upper East Siders didn't diminish his knowledge of their lifestyle, and their perfunctory distaste of him, they had changed in ways Dan feared he'd never understand. It wasn't just Serena's surprising new attitude; it was Blair's meek way at handling things, the way she'd often stare off into the distance with forlorn eyes. Dan realized it was as if he was living with people he'd never met.

Frequently, when Chuck was away, Dan would receive a text from Serena at some hour of the evening, telling him details of where she was and what she was doing. "Keep Blair distracted." It was a difficult task she asked of him.

It was a Thursday evening - as was per usual these days - when Dan's phone went off, chiming incessantly in the adjoining room as he folded a towel over his waist. There were only a few possibilities of the caller, though he knew it was most likely Serena. Naomi called on weekends when she was off work, and Jenny was busy with her life as a political wife, attempting to step out of Serena's shadow and make a name for herself. Dan released a heavy sigh and cracked the door a bit, peering out to be sure Blair wasn't in the hallway.

Dan hurried into the living room and snatched his phone off the endtable, checking once to see a new text message. As he made way back to the bathroom, he flipped open his phone and wasn't at all surprised to find a text from Serena. "With Chuck. Keep Blair distracted." With an annoyed snort, Dan snapped the phone shut and tossed it on the marble.

Dan threw on his clothes - newly-bought as of yesterday - and wondered how he could _possibly_ distract Blair this time. The nights before he simply asked her about her work life, hoping to get some details on how to understand her better. But perhaps she'd get suspicious if that was all he asked.

Blair was back in the living room when Dan walked in, reading a book on the couch. She was curled daintily with her feet tucked underneath each other, completely oblivious to Dan's arrival.

Perhaps, Dan thought triumphantly, distracting her wouldn't prove to be so hard of a mission tonight.

"I can hear you breathing, Humphrey," Blair called flippantly, though she refused to look up from her book and remained still. "I'm sorry that I have to take the time out of your day for people watching." The dry, sarcastic humor in Blair's voice reminded Dan that she still hadn't changed as much as Serena.

Dan managed a smile. "You're not that entertaining to watch," he replied rapidly, coming around the side to settle himself on a stool in front of the counter. "These days, all you do is read and type on the computer. You could be a spy and Chuck would never know."

"Chuck knows everything about me," Blair laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not that hard to figure out, in spite of common belief."

Dan decided not to comment on that. Every moment he spent with her, he realized how much like him she really was, even though he'd never taken the time to see it before then. Like Dan himself, Blair read often, enjoying Austen's romance over Dan's preference of Poe's haunting stories. To each his own, though they never hesitated to argue over it. And, the more time Dan talked with her, the more he realized how much he _hated_ Chuck for his unfaithfulness. He'd never enjoyed Blair's company until recently, but she didn't deserve it regardless.

Dan, instead of answering, stood up to walk around the side of the kitchen. He wondered how often the place was used. He knew just as well as the other person that Chuck and Blair never cooked; since the moment they'd been born, silver spoons hanging off the corners of their mouths, they'd been catered to their every whim and desire, which meant room service was a necessity and cooking was a hassle.

Dan pursed his lips. Being in the kitchen reminded him faintly of Naomi and his life with her; one of his favorite routine's of the day was helping her around the kitchen. When Rufus divorced Lily, he lived alone, and so he gave Dan their waffle iron in case he ever had kids. Waffles was a ritualistic morning meal.

Homesickness flooded over Dan at once.

"You're probably going to laugh," Dan started awkwardly, lifting his eyes to Blair, who'd paused from reading to give him a quizzical gaze, "but, do you happen to have a waffle iron?" The question was silly, but Dan had never wanted the treat more than now.

Blair narrowed her eyes instantly, as if pondering. "Why on earth would we have one?" she asked him scathingly, crossing her arms. Before Dan could protest, his mouth opening to explain, Blair flicked her wrist and chuckled. "Actually, we _do._ Dorota gave it to us as a house-warming gift. Not like we ever use it."

Dan raked his hand through his hair, embarrassed. "Have you ever even _had_ waffles?" It was almost a blasphemous question. Dan had grown up around the homey food; he and Jenny never knew a day without it.

Blair shut her book. She stood up to meet Dan at the kitchen entrance. "I have," she responded defensively, lifting her chin. "With Serena, actually. It was a little after Rufus and Lily's divorce." With that admittance, Blair's eyes grew distant and sad. "She'd said she missed having them home-cooked every morning. As a family." Blair lowered her gaze.

Dan started a little. Rufus and Lily had gotten a divorce in 2010, and although Rufus never told Dan why, everyone assumed it had something to do with Serena's father. Tired of Serena's lost lifestyle, Dan had sworn himself from her presence. He'd never even wondered if she missed him, but she must have, according to Blair. Dan had always had the luxury of family when Serena never did.

"Oh," Dan muttered with lack of anything better to say.

Blair didn't answer. Instead, she breezed past Dan and leaned down to obtain a waffle iron from the lower cabinet. She presented it to him with a grimace. "Have at it. I'll watch to be sure you don't burn the kitchen down." Dan realized she was only half-joking.

As Dan opened the cupboards for ingredients - he was half-surprised to see there were any at all, though he suspected Dorota still came by in case the room service somehow died - Blair sat down on the stool adjacent to the counter, strangely quiet. In the few days he'd spent with Mrs. Bass, he'd noted that she was a talkative type; she never had nothing to say. The idea that she was silent unnerved him.

"What is it you do on the computer, anyway?" Dan decided to ask. He figured it was time to question it; it was always at the same time everyday, on the exact mark.

"I'm writing something," Blair answered vaguely.

"Oh. Well -"

"Humphrey," Blair interrupted before he could complete the thought, pursing her lips. She worked her hands in her lap nervously. Finally, she looked up and asked, "Did Serena mention me? At all?" The desperation and distress in her voice caught Dan off-guard.

Dan wondered what he could say. If he told the truth - that Serena had talked of Blair - then he'd have to make up a lie on the spot. Deciding better of it, he simply shook his head and said, "No. No, I'm sorry."

Blair's shoulders slumped with defeat. "I thought so. We don't talk anymore."

Dan nodded knowingly, beating the batter lightly. "W-Well, that could change," he offered weakly, knowing that it was unlikely if Serena was going to continue to go behind Blair's back with Chuck. "You never know. I-I mean, you guys were such good friends before, I guess... I don't know."

"Quit trying to be helpful," Blair sighed, her tone still frosty and bitter, as if she no longer wanted to speak of the matter. "It's too far gone now."

Dan poured the mix into the iron, closing it shut quickly. "Why don't you go visit her? You _do_ know where she is, right?" Every word caught like a thorn in his throat. They weren't_ lies_, exactly, but rather false hopeful thinking. Serena would surely turn Blair away immediately, and even if the two reconciled, Serena would still be with Chuck. Each problem would resurface and they'd be back to square one.

Blair refused to answer, her eyes blank and spacey on the marble counter. Before Dan could press her further, in hopes of sounding convincing, Blair shook herself and announced instead, "It smells good. The waffle, I mean." Her eyes were unnaturally bright.

Dan didn't question it. He didn't even reply. He merely waited with his foot tapping inaudibly on the tile, until a tinny chiming sounded and he removed the food from its contains., allowing it to cool. Tearing it in half, he wordlessly handed one side to Blair. He'd checked already, and it didn't surprise him that they didn't have any syrup. He'd have to make do without.

Blair sniffed the half warily, but took a dainty bite with a weak shrug. "Good."

Dan eyed her critically. He was well-aware she had clammed up about Serena for a reason, but he dared not query about it; he was still a stranger here. He knew it would've been wise to look up information on the web, for just a sliver of a _reason _as to why Serena was so cold, and Blair was so distant. Something happened - that much he was sure - but he had no idea what would cause two best friends to part on such terrible terms.

So, instead of trying to figure it out, Dan was content to just stand there, finishing his half of the waffle and in silent company. It wasn't what he was used to - loud, exuberant laughter filling a warm kitchen - but he found himself just as happy to be there.

And that, more than Serena's coldness, more than Blair's unexpected hospitality, was what surprised him the most.


	6. Chapter 6

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **Sorry about the wait for this one, and that it's so short. Haven't been able to muster up muse for it. Also, I've been receiving questions about their age in this. I'm sorry for not making it clearer. All of them are between 26-28 years of age.

* * *

_We were the kings and queens of promise.  
We were the victims of ourselves.  
Maybe the children of a lesser God,  
between Heaven and Hell._

_**kings and queens  
30 seconds to mars**_

Serena lay, head down in the pillow and arms sprawled across the sheets, in her suite, a less-than-modest chemise wrapped around her body. Her hair was still damp from the shower she'd taken earlier with Chuck, curled and mussed, yet she found herself unwilling to care. A feeling akin to contentment seeped through her skin and she released a deep, happy sigh into the thin fabric.

After so long of seldom being with Chuck, Serena had him to herself at last.

It took a bit more persuading than Serena would let herself admit. She'd wanted to spend an entire weekend alone with Chuck for a while, yet he'd always been held back, with Blair or even with work. Yet, finally, this time he agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"I'm afraid of Blair finding out." Each time his answer was the same, and though Serena felt the exact way, she still couldn't manage to keep a straight face when he spouted that. After all, Chuck frequently told Serena that he wanted to be with her, that soon he would divorce Blair, but other than empty, hollow words, he never followed through. Serena had begun to wonder if he ever would.

Chuck interrupted her thoughts with a brief clearing of his throat; Serena could hear his even breathing and footsteps across the carpet as he reached the bed. "I called Blair," he murmured as he slid underneath the covers, his skin pressed tantalizingly against hers.

Serena's breath caught momentarily in her throat, and she swallowed thickly before answering. "And?" she queried icily, turning over to peer skeptically at Chuck with a raised brow. "What'd you say?"

"And," Chuck started slowly, pausing to drag his hands lazily over her thighs, then underneath her silk night dress with lofty concentration, "I told her I was on an unexpected business trip, and I'd be back Wednesday." He grinned. "So we have this _entire_ suite to ourselves for another four days."

Serena tried to keep her eyes neutral, but they sparkled with relief, and even her voice was soft as she purred, "With no interruptions?" She stretched languidly, twisting her head towards his. Despite her misgivings, she couldn't resist the smile that adorned her face at the look in his eyes, and she closed her eyes with undiminished peace, lips pulling taut with the grin.

Chuck smirked. "None," he promised, leaning forward to capture Serena's lips. There was a pause; then, "I almost feel bad about leaving Blair with Cabbage Patch." With a low rumble of laughter, Chuck stretched his palm across Serena's thigh - he had an obsession with them, as he put it - his fingers warm and firm on the skin. "_Almost_ being the operative word."

This time, much to Serena's surprise, Chuck's words didn't invoke any sense of jealousy. Perhaps it was because of his manipulative hands wandering too far up her chemise. Or - in a more likely case - it was the idea that Dan and Blair _were_, in fact, alone in the penthouse for four days. Victory and triumph surged immediately through her veins. The feelings were neither familiar nor foreign, yet she was well aware that they would be kicked into overdrive when the plan turned out _just _right.

Keeping the secret, as she was accustomed to as of late, Serena melted into liquid underneath Chuck's hands, squirming contentedly. "I'm sure she'll keep Dan in line," Serena replied with a trill of laughter. "She probably has him sleeping on the floor."

"The couch, actually," Chuck corrected distractedly, threading his free hand through Serena's blonde locks. "Blair goes Colonel Kurtz when she's alone." With that, he nestled closer.

Serena found her eyes wide open as Chuck pressed his face into her neck, placing tiny kisses along the skin. She stared ahead, suddenly hypersensitive. It shouldn't have bothered her - not in the slightest - yet, she was aware of the fondness in Chuck's voice. Serena hated it when they spoke of Blair. It made her insecurities about him resurface almost at once, and she disliked it even more when he questioned her about them.

Forcing herself to remain calm, Serena allowed her eyes to flutter shut, attempting to enjoy the warmth against her neck and settling in her stomach. Still, she couldn't get the image of _Blair_ out of her mind; Blair as a teenager, a designer bag in hand with a Jane Austen book hiding her face; Blair as a child, a headband taming her curls; Blair getting married, a diamond ring on her finger and a wide grin.

Blair, the day Serena pushed her away.

As much as Serena wished she could deny it, she could feel the pangs of guilt in her belly, fluttering against her ribcage. She loved Chuck - that much she was certain - but she couldn't help thinking that it was Blair's _husband_.

When they were kids, Serena and Blair promised to never let a guy get in between them. While it faltered slightly all those years ago, when Nate wandered into Serena's heart, it was soothed, for they were unable to be torn apart, despite everything.

And then _Chuck._ Of all people, it had to be _Chuck_ that Blair married.

Abruptly Serena slammed the thoughts out of her head, focusing instead at Chuck's fingers nimbly sliding down her shoulder strap. It was Blair, after all, that left; it was Blair who said she was _done_, _gone._ Blair had made the decision. Serena should very well hate the bitch for having Chuck.

_Chuck_, who was currently turning all of his attention on Serena, and _not_ Blair. The same Chuck who made those vows to Blair six years ago - _"Through sickness and health..." _- was Serena's, at least for the time being.

Chuck pulled back instantly, a frown creased on his lips. "Who pissed in your champagne?" he asked gruffly, loosening the tie around his neck. There was skepticism and even a hint of frustration his tone. Serena was well aware that she was hardly one to keep him waiting. "You seem distracted," Chuck went on before she could reply, "and to be honest, it's a hell of a turn-off."

"I need to go to the bathroom," Serena choked out, feigning a smile and rolling out from underneath Chuck before he could protest. "Too much wine. I'll be back." With the words she tossed hurriedly over her shoulder, Serena slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She felt like screaming under the pressure.

Serena liked to think she wasn't heartless; yet, here she was, spending four days alone in her suite with her (ex) best friend's husband. Betrayal weighed down her heart. She didn't know why she was having an epiphany about it _now_.

_Who's the bitch in the mirror with adultery etched into her skin?_

Of course, Serena didn't have an answer, so she merely crumbled next to the sink and curled her knees to her chest, like a five-year-old she hadn't been for many years. Perhaps, if she squinted, she was still the same Serena, with a love for the brighter things on earth and who had a voice more like sunshine than ice. Perhaps if she squinted, she wasn't such a horrible person, and she didn't kill a baby four years ago.

Serena did only what Serena did best, and she went out into the bedroom and was disloyal to her best friend. She kissed Chuck like he used to kiss Blair, and she made love while he fucked, and in some twisted way, she was just fine. She was just perfectly fine.

And when the heat faded and the passion ended, Serena was awake under muffled beams of moonlight, and more than she hated Blair, and more than she hated Nate for his disloyalty, she hated herself more.

_The plan is in motion._ And when they were over, Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck, Serena would get her happy-fucking-ending. She'd be able to forget that Chuck was ever married to Blair and she'd never remember she'd had a best friend with brown hair and a broken smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I've been getting a lot of complaints about Chuck/Serena. Please lay off it. Continue to read, if you will, but if every review contains the idea that you hate the C/S storyline, you might as well keep it to yourself. I'm aware of what's going on. Thank you.

* * *

_All this feels strange and untrue.  
And I won't waste a minute without you.  
My bones ache, my skin feels cold,  
and I'm getting so tired and so old._

_**open your eyes  
snow patrol**_

The day that Chuck packed his suitcases, amending hastily to Dan that he had a business trip, Serena had already informed Dan of his actual whereabouts. And, although he knew that he shouldn't be surprised in the least, Dan had shaken his head with wonderment. The complicated dynamic of the Upper East Sider's lives would never truly capture his understanding.

As it was, it didn't help that Naomi was hardly speaking to Dan. It had been a week ago that she'd noticed his distracted way of speaking; she even called him out on it. "What's up with you?"

Dan had to lie, of course. "I've just been very, ah, busy, you know," he'd managed to stammer out, relieved to realize it wasn't that much of a lie. In between keeping Blair busy and trying to figure out Serena's plan, he hadn't barely any time for himself.

Naomi had murmured back a reply, but Dan was well aware she didn't completely believe him, and it hadn't shocked him when she didn't call for days afterwards.

Despite the marital troubles brewing, Dan found himself content, which was new for him. He didn't need to worry about money; he didn't need to worry about much of anything, really. With Blair's company, he was strangely without a care.

"With Chuck all weekend. You should know by now." With that, Serena's text ended ominously, and Dan still was left staring with a frown at his phone. He'd grown an affinity to hating the whole _distract Blair_ strategy. _Distracting Blair_ became his daily routine, not much of a task at all.

Dan still didn't entirely understand his purpose at the Bass penthouse. He knew, more than he was sure of anything, that Serena had a hideously devious plan prepared for his destruction of the marriage. He wondered if he'd read a book on this before; it made so much sense, after all, that everything was working so coldly, manipulatively, when it seemed to be a hasty plan at first.

Before Dan could shake away the thoughts and force himself to grace Blair's presence, the door cracked just a bit and he was surprised to see she'd come to him first. Often times, Dan was always the one to initiate; it was rather how they worked.

Yet, Blair stood before him, an embarrassed flush in her cheeks, though with her chin lifted high and proud. There was a gleam of amusement and guarded curiosity in her hazel eyes as she regarded him. "Humphrey," she greeted with a slight half-smile. "Come here. I want to show you something." With the brisk words, Blair turned on her heel, seemingly indifferent if he followed or not.

Bewildered, Dan trailed after Blair. She was leading him to the couch, where her laptop was neatly placed, a blank Word document opened. Patting the spot next to her, Blair settled the laptop on her crossed legs, motioning for him to take a look.

Dan realized that Blair was going to show him what she'd been writing all these nights. Apprehensive, yet anticipating, Dan sat down and craned his neck towards the laptop. At first, he was unable to comprehend the words, then it slowly dawned on him, and he couldn't help a grin. "You're Audrey Grace, from the Post," he murmured.

Blair smiled. "You recognize it?" There was a nervous tremor behind her voice, but it was welcome from the cold voice Dan had grown accustom to. "I didn't think you read the Post. I didn't think you read much of _anything _news-related."

Despite himself, Dan laughed. "I don't. Trust me, I'm not too caught up on the news of this century." If he had, he reminded himself with a grimace, he'd have known the goings-on of the Upper East Siders. "No, no, I don't read the Post. But, Naomi - my wife - does. She's a huge fan of your human interest columns. She goes on and on..." Suddenly self-conscious with talking about his wife, Dan sped on. "So, what, you're under a secret alias so you can be a journalist?"

Blair shrugged, as if to say, _more or less_. "Chuck doesn't want me working, really," she explained, sounding a bit more than bothered with the fact. Visibly shaking it off, she went on, "He's got this superority complex, you know? Ever since we were kids... and he feels like I shouldn't work, 'cause we don't need the money."

A flash of envy boiled Dan's blood. How easy it would be, he mused, to carry on through life without a worry? How easy would it be to have a job only for the joy of working, not for survival?

"But, I love to write," Blair confessed, unaware of Dan's jealousy. "When I was a kid, I used to covet my writing skills. As an adult, I guess I missed the simplicity of those days." Blair leaned back on the couch, stretching languidly with a contented smile. "I applied for the human interest column at the Post, and they accepted me. Chuck doesn't know." With a dart of murderous brown eyes, she added, "And I'd like it to stay that way, thank you very much."

Dan nodded knowingly.

"This column is due by Friday," Blair continued. "But... I'm having some trouble with it." At the admittance, she dipped her head shyly, color rising to her cheeks again. "Tell me, Humphrey; how am I supposed to come up with a clincher for this topic? I didn't choose it."

Dan's eyes widened a fraction, and he bit his tongue. _The Housewife Dilemma: Cheating Husbands._

All at once, guilt and remorse and anger flooded through Dan, and he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from crying out in frustration. In his albeit short time at the Bass penthouse, he had grown to see Blair less like an adversary and more like a friend, someone who confided in him and understood him. The truth, the reality, was facing him now, and he could do little more than shut his mouth.

Blair was still waiting expectantly for Dan's advice.

Each vein pulsed with panic. Dan _hated_ to lie; the fact that he was harming Blair in general wounded him. With each agonizing second ticking away, he felt his resolve slipping along with the time. "Blair, I -"

_You what?_ Serena's menacing voice echoed in his mind, discouraging him from telling the truth. Malice dripped from her lips; her resentment for him even vibrated in his ears. _What of dear Naomi, Dan? What of your domestic life together?_

Dan swallowed thickly.

"Humphrey!" Blair barked sharply, jarring him from his reverie. "What is it?" Dan hoped he was imagining the worry in her tone. The last thing he needed was Blair - former _Waldorf_ - concerned for him, for it was severely out of character, and he was a bastard that didn't deserve her friendship.

Finally: "As your friend, I should probably tell you something." Each word pierced thorn-sharp in his throat.

_No!_ Serena's anger was so real, so raw, that Dan physically flinched away from it.

Blair's eyes darkened; Dan could see the imperceptible flitting movement from the corner of his eye. With a discrete, rapid glance over the screen, she straightened herself. "If this is about Chuck," she began slowly, deliberately, an obvious pain sobering her voice, "I honestly don't want to hear it, Dan." It was the first time he could remember her using his first name. Her voice was collected and calm, almost icily so.

_She knows?_ This time, it was Serena's confused voice; the one he could imagine with her furrowed brow and lips tucked into a pout. Ever since the fateful encounter in her suite not too long ago, Dan's thoughts were measured in Serena's voice, nonstop, constant; she was there, telling him what to do, what to say. He no longer recognized his own voice.

"Blair..." Dan was lost. As far as he knew - as far as _Serena_ told him - Blair was completely out of the know. "I just -"

"If Chuck wants to go sleep all the call-girls in Manhattan, he can," Blair snapped, closing the laptop shut with a bit more force than necessary. She smiled at him, a placating smile that Dan could see right through. "I know about Chuck, Humphrey. I've known for a while." She turned away, her shoulders slumping with defeat. "I appreciate your concern, but, really, there's nothing much you could do."

Instinctively, Dan reached out, then forced his hand to fall short when he realized his comfort would be ill-received. He allowed her to walk away, each step carefully poised, her head somehow held high and haughty.

To her, it didn't seem to matter if her husband was unfaithful; it didn't seem to affect her. Dan had never expected such a reaction. Serena, then, must not have realized Blair's intuition wasn't so dull. She _knew_. She knew and yet still carried out life with him as if they were still in love.

Then, icy water doused Dan's insides as he remembered one key aspect: she didn't know it was Serena. Call-girls, yes, which shouldn't have surprised Dan; but her ex best friend? Never. Blair never even expected to know the names of the girls that assisted in ruining her marriage.

With the dawn of this thought, Dan clenched his fists with frustration, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. He forced himself to take calm breaths, to rationalize that _this would help his marriage_, but the mere fact that he considered Blair a close friend made the situation worse. Serena hadn't anticipated that he'd become a friend to Blair. Now that he had, Dan found he hated himself more than he believed possible.


	8. Chapter 8

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **Sorry about the wait, school's been keeping me busy and muse has been hard to come by.

* * *

_Maybe redemption has stories to tell.  
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell.  
Where can you run to escape from yourself?  
Where you gonna go?_

_**dare you to move  
switchfoot**_

The normalcy that Dan generally coveted was back, yet he found that it wasn't as welcome as he'd anticipated. When he'd first arrived at the Bass penthouse, his only wish was to be left alone; his only wish was to be able to enjoy quiet, untethered evenings with his books while awaiting instructions from Serena. But now that he had what he wanted all along, he realized what he needed was company.

Ever since the incident, as Dan comfortably referred to it as, Blair's attention and unwavering focus dissipated; Dan found himself ignored in her presence more than ever. Even as teenagers, she would glance his way, regarding him in the superior fashion of an Upper East Sider. But now, she merely blinked to acknowledge him and promptly fled into the other room.

Dan was well-aware that she was attempting to keep the peace; she was trying to keep her fairytale perfectly constructed, to forget that there was a gaping crack in the exterior. By ignoring Dan, she was dismissing the problem. There was nothing to worry about, at least for the time being; she could believe this wholly as long as Dan didn't prove otherwise.

On the last night before Chuck came home, Dan was sitting - alone, as was perfunctory now - with a book underneath a lamp on the endtable of their sofa. While the dark lines contrasted against the page made sense, Dan realized it was nearly impossible to focus. He once again checked the clock in the kitchen. It was almost an hour past midnight. Uneasiness twisted his stomach. Blair had gone out at only eight o'clock, with a lame story of meeting friends for drinks. There was no doubt in his mind that Blair was drinking alone.

Dan hated that he was beginning to _worry_ for Blair. He was absolutely sure she could take care of herself - she'd done it for so long without his help. Yet now that the secret, however long she knew of it, was out in the open between them, Dan also was adamant that she'd continue to ignore him. It was no longer about Naomi, or the life he'd built with her, or the deal he'd made with Serena. He'd toss it all away for forgiveness.

It wasn't until around two o'clock that a distorted Blair stumbled through the doorway, her lipstick smudged and her eyes glassy. Dan immediately dropped his book. He'd never seen her drunk before. He'd never seen her as anything other than poised, almost unnatural perfection.

Blair took one wild-eyed glance at him and stopped in her tracks. Tears welled out of the corners of her eyes. "Humphrey," she greeted lowly, her words twisted and grating against his ears. "What're _you_ doing here?" She seemed to realize her question and snorted, taking a step back. "No, no, I already know what you're doing here." With that, she turned on her heel and marched with some purpose to the kitchen.

Dan's lips moved with the intention of replying, yet all words refused to leave his throat. He swallowed thickly. "What are you doing?" he asked carefully, choosing his words precisely. Curiosity and guilt equally fueled his eagerness.

Blair shrugged unsteadily. "Nothing," she mumbled, words a bit more than slightly slurred. "What do you want?" Suddenly defensive, Blair snapped her gaze to Dan's, managing to lift her head stubbornly. "This is _your fault_, you know." Anger dripped from her tone and Dan visibly winced.

"I'll get you some aspirin." Dan dodged the accusation evasively, closing his book and attempting to side-step past her to the bathroom. All the while, even by the most insignificant movements, his senses were too alert, guilt in every breath he took. He shouldn't have even tried to say anything. "It's in the bathroom, right?"

Blair opened her mouth to reply when a look of revulsion crossed over her face. Promptly, she leaned over and retched, coughing up the contains of her stomach. The thick scent of booze and stomach acid made Dan clamp his hand over his mouth, eyes narrowed in sympathy. He'd not been close to Blair for very long, but he knew just as well as anyone else that she'd never been driven to drink until she puked.

Blair let out a low moan, clutching her stomach with watering eyes. Dan's outlook softened. Rather than being critical, he realized, he shouldn't even judge; that was always his problem with Serena, he reflected. As many problems as his judgmental ideals caused when he was younger, Dan knew he hadn't really changed much at all.

"I'm sorry, Blair," Dan decided to say, rather than attempt to comfort her. No truer words had ever been spoken. He was apologizing for being Serena's knight; he was apologizing for being judgmental and accusational; he was apologizing for bringing Chuck's infedelity up at all.

With glassy, lost eyes, Blair gazed at him, her bottom lip trembling. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, Humphrey," she whispered, half-delirious. "He wasn't supposed to sleep with anyone else. He wasn't supposed to stop loving me." She swallowed, swaying unsteadily. "We were supposed to be forever, you know? Well, I guess you do." She didn't seem to be aware that she was talking to anyone in particular.

Dan simply shook his head sympathetically. "I know. I know, and -"

"Maybe you don't," Blair snapped. "It was two years ago, the first time I caught him with someone." She made a quick, vague gesture, one hand still gripping the marble counter to steady herself. "Some red-head he took home when I was supposed to be out with my friends. Drinks were finished early, and I came home..." She started to hobble over to Dan. "And he was right... right there." She pointed to the couch. "With _her._"

Dan watched as Blair's eyes brimmed with unreleased tears, her breath hitching. The last thing she needed, he realized, was knowing Serena was with Chuck. For her own good, Dan kept his mouth firmly shut.

Blair went on with her rambling story. "And I guess I forgave him, because he's Chuck, and he's always been like that," she whispered, wiping furiously at her tear-stained cheeks. "But I was so stupid. So, so stupid. I shouldn't have even begun to trust him. It was only a few months later I caught him again." She sighed, curling one hand into a fist. "God, sometimes I just think he's the same insufferable bastard as he was when we were teenagers. He never really changed at all."

"I don't know what to say, Blair," Dan answered honestly, barely able to choke the words out. He knew Blair was expecting a reply; he just couldn't give her one. He was no better than Chuck was, if he was willing to hurt her more than she already was for mere money.

Blair started, as if just realizing he was in the room. Her eyes were wild and distant, in a memory Dan couldn't fathom. "I guess you wouldn't, Humphrey." Shoulders slumping with defeat, she began to trudge back into her room, her feet dragging tiredly on the ground.

With a sudden rush of instinct, Dan went after Blair, stopping her before she could close the door in his face. "Wait." The order was soft and hesitant, uncertain. "When was the last time you caught Chuck with somebody?" Dan hated asking the question, but he had to know; he had to tell Serena if Chuck was being unfaithful to both she and Blair.

Blair swallowed. "Last month. A tall brunette." Before Dan could register the response, Blair stumbled, her feet giving out underneath her. Dan managed to catch her before she fell, her arms latching around him and clutching at his shirt. "Humphrey..." The groan was so low and distorted that Dan could hardly hear his name.

Hushing her, Dan hoisted her up into his arms, allowing Blair to rest her head against his chest. His heart thrashed vehemently, thumping harshly against the confines of his chest. "I'm sorry, Blair," Dan repeated for the millionth time that night, whispering the apology into her ear. "For Chuck. You don't deserve that." _And neither does Serena_, he thought grimly; no matter how different she was, she wasn't as heartless as she tried to be. Dan knew the news would crush her.

As Dan carried her near-weightless body to the bed, he could hear Blair stir, eyelashes fluttering open. "Sometimes," she breathed, her breath like shattering glass, "I wonder why I even stay. I wonder why I even try." She released a bitter bark of laughter. "I wonder why I don't just leave him if he wants everyone but me."

Dan could say nothing to that, and so he avoided Blair's searching gaze and placed her delicately down on the unmade bed. Her eyes were less lost now, more found; she seemed to understand where she was and how she got there. His mission was complete.

Yet Blair was still staring at him and Dan found himself meeting the gaze defiantly. "What about Naomi?" Blair asked quietly, more lucid. "Why did you two split up?" She sounded genuinely curious. Dan cocked his head to the side.

"She, ah... I don't know. We got into a fight. And it was silly, but I don't know if it's going to be fixed any time soon." The story tumbled easily off his tongue. "I'm not sure, exactly, if we'll ever get it back. What we had, I mean. I don't know." Though each word was a lie, Dan realized he wasn't exactly diverting too far from the truth; when this whole ordeal was over, he wasn't sure he'd be able to go back to being simply Dan Humphrey. He'd have changed too much.

Blair nodded absently. "She sounds nice," she murmured, refusing to meet his eyes. "Too nice to be gone forever." She laughed lightly, the first actual smile he'd seen since he brought up Chuck's unfaithfulness. Blair finally looked up, finding his eyes in the darkness. "I hope you get it back. What you had."

Dan started. He'd never thought he'd hear such selfless, concerning words coming from Blair's mouth; never, in all his years of living. His outlook on Blair was simple, but surprisingly accurate. She was the dark, spoiled, selfish girl who always got what she wanted, no matter the price. She was always going to be the woman he respected but feared and even hated a bit.

_I don't really know you at all_, he realized.

"You should leave him, Blair." Dan leaned down to whisper the words into Blair's ear. The darkness suddenly seemed to press in around him, urging him, warning him, like he was standing on the edge of a precipice.

"I know." And in the darkness, before Dan could move, she captured his lips and pulled him down into the sheets.


	9. Chapter 9

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **While I write this, I am eating oreos, and I think I've found the food that fuels my muse.

* * *

_And if loving her is heartache for me,  
and if holding her means that I have to bleed,  
then I am the martyr,  
and love is to blame._

_**she is the sunlight  
trading yesterday**_

Waking up next to Blair was an experience Dan was sure he'd never forget. It was different from Serena, Naomi, and every other girl he'd ever fooled around with in his past; it was blunt and unexpected and warm. Tantalizingly warm, more than anything, for even though the sheets were peeled off their bodies and tangled around their bare feet, her skin was heated and sweat-slicked, her body melted into his.

What surprised Dan most was the fact that it seemed natural, as if he'd woken every day with Blair wrapped around him, her brown curls splayed across the pillow and her breathing even as she slept. Everything was Blair; the smell in his nostrils when his eyes flew open, the light seeping into his skin from the muffled blinds. Everything was _her_. And the guilt, the imminent regret and self-loathing he felt for shattering the trust between he and Naomi, dissipated. None of it mattered.

Dan was never going to remember the exact moment his walls crumbled, urging him to follow Blair into the sheets as she took him down, down, down; he was never going to remember the flash of warmth as her lips met his, teasing him, comforting him. All he ever wanted was to be accepted, by his mother, by Serena, by even Naomi, who looked down on his dreams of being an author while they ate meager portions of rice every night. Blair had never accepted him, yet he hadn't cared; now that she'd understood, now that she'd given him acceptance, he wondered absently how he ever existed without it.

It was dawn, the sun barely shedding light in the shaded room, when Dan stirred from his peaceful sleep, undisturbed by Serena's bitter laughter and Naomi's dull, unsatisfied eyes. For once, everything was washed away, like a dark blanket barring away all worries.

Dan expected shock when he awoke; he expected wide eyes staring apprehensively at him, Blair's mouth agape with regret and her body twisted away from him. Rather, she was still asleep when he threaded his fingers lazily through her hair, sleep blurring his gaze. It was comfortable and easy, he realized, to just lay there. He pushed Naomi - and all pressing issues with Serena - to the very back of his mind.

The sun was fully risen over the skyline when Dan, starting to doze off, felt Blair shift beside him. He sucked in a breath. For a reason he couldn't name quite succinctly, he didn't want her to hate him when she saw his face; he already felt enough guilt for being such a hypocrite. How could he criticize Serena for her wrong-doings when he was being so much worse? He wasn't just thrusting himself between the Bass marriage - he was ruining his own, too.

Dan's heart raced. However much he wished possible, he knew he'd never be able to completely dump all worries beneath the surface. They threw themselves to the front of his mind, provoking a whirlwind of emotions that flitted by too quickly for him to register; remorse, loathing, apprehension, excitement, confusion, passing in technicolor.

All thoughts came to an instant halt when Blair lifted her wide brown gaze to his. She parted her lips, just a mere hairbreadth, heat rising to flush rouge on her cheeks. "Humphrey," she murmured into the air thick with tension, eyelids fluttering closed. She took in a breath, a slow smile stretching taut across her rosy lips, satisfaction and pleasantness in the single feature. "Care to remind me?"

Dan started, attempting to remember back to the heady moments of the night before. Words and thoughts and color flashed behind his eyes, punctuated secrets and moans filling his ears. He couldn't make much sense of it all. He shook his head slowly. "I... I can't remember," he admitted lamely, unable to describe the emotions that pierced through his head.

Blair opened her eyes. "Me neither." The silence was comfortable as she twisted to her side, gaze unblinking on the ceiling. Then: "I guess you regret it, then."

Immediately a soft, surprised sound slipped past Dan's lips before he could stop it. He tried to think, to make sense of the rapid images permeating in his head. He felt remorse, yes, for infidelity with Naomi; he felt shame, yes, for judging Serena when he was no better; he felt many things he could not even begin to put into words. But regret? Dan furrowed his brow. He found himself unable to regret it.

"No, not really," Dan confessed with lack of anything better to say, averting his eyes from Blair's form to follow her gaze on the ceiling. He traced intricate patterns in the texture above him, spelling his thoughts into words he could not say.

From his peripheral, Dan could see just a tiny image of Blair, eying him with curious, half-amused eyes. "Makes two of us, then," she replied simply, curtly. Dan craned his head to the side to catch her expression. Like his own speechlessness, he realized she was leaving so many thoughts left unsaid, and he knew just as well that she could never share them. They were too vivid, too raw, to make any sense.

Taking in all of Blair, a sight he hadn't been able to thoroughly examine in the twisting darkness of the night before, Dan swallowed. He was becoming entranced by her mere presence, even without her skin pressed hotly against his. He had a flashback, then, of a long-forgotten memory, an insecure Blair slumped down against a wall, unreleased tears in her eyes and a broken frown on her face.

How she could be so insecure, Dan wondered idly, when she was so profoundly perfect, he would never understand. He expected then to feel a rush of guilt again, hatred at himself for lies to Naomi, but there was none, and he welcomed the blank, warm feeling.

"Chuck's going to be home soon." With that one soft-spoken statement, Dan's comfort plummeted into bitterness. Even though he knew that the simplicity wouldn't stay so easy for long, the surreal idea that Chuck would be home, and everything would have to go back to the way it was, made his head reel.

"So, what? That's it, then?" Dan mumbled, too sickened to put any anger behind his words. "Everything's the same?"

Blair cleared her throat, tugging the sheet up over her stark body, as if to hide herself from his eyes burning the memory into his brain. She raised her gaze to his. "Yeah," she whispered lowly, tucking the sheet underneath her chin. There was an emotion Dan couldn't name behind her words, shining brightly in her eyes, something akin to longing. "I don't know. I may just leave him."

For some reason, the words infuriated Dan to no end. His mission had been to convince Blair to leave Chuck; that was the plan, carefully-constructed with bribery. Now that he heard the confirmation that he might have succeeded, he no longer wished to return to his apartment with Naomi, where the air was thick with tension and judgmental eyes followed him. He set out to destroy Blair's marriage; now, he realized, it was a personal goal.

Blair hadn't even said for sure that she was leaving Chuck. Dan noted this bitterly, nitpicking at the detail. _May_ just leave him. So, what? She could be alone and single and find another person to marry her? So she could take up residence with Dan? Would he be willing to leave Naomi for her?

Dan shook his head imperceptibly, confused by the fusillade of questions assailing his mind. "That's a pretty big _may_," he muttered, just loud enough for Blair to hear the hesitant words, to understand the implications behind them.

Blair's eyes narrowed. "What other option do I have, Humphrey?" Dan assumed she was being rhetorical, but when he caught her gaze, her brown eyes were imploring and desperate, pleading with him to give her an answer he didn't have. "What do you want me to do? Leave him, and be alone with Cyrus and Eleanor? Leave him, and - do what? Marry _you_?"

_Maybe you could_, Dan wanted to say. Rather: "Isn't all that better than what you have now?" He reached out to touch her hair again, but she twisted away, eyes downcast. "He's never going to change," Dan pressed.

"You don't know that." Dan knew at once that Blair didn't believe her words at all; they were just something to say. Before he could respond, she stood up, the sheet still hiding his view, barring him away like the walls he was sure he tore down. "We have to get dressed now. Or Chuck will know. And I don't want to have to explain it to him." With that, she turned her back to him and waited until he left.

Dan swallowed. "Blair, you can't just ignore me."

Blair shrugged carelessly, as if to bypass his protest. "It's my penthouse, and I can ignore all I want. You're still lucky I'm letting you stay here." For a brief second, Dan could hear the old Blair in her voice, cold and indifferent and with malice on her tongue. "Please, Humphrey, leave my room."

Desperation kindled furtively in Dan's eyes; he could feel it swimming through his veins, pulsing. For a reason he found himself unable to name, it was despairingly important that Blair left Chuck. It meant nothing, yet it meant everything, and Dan couldn't allow her to go on ignoring the problem. "No!"

Blair's head snapped to the side, glaring at him.

"You can't just ignore me!" Anger boiled in Dan's blood, terrifying him with its intensity. "You can't," he repeated, feeling his breath going ragged and shattered. "You can't sweep it under the rug, and forget, and just forget it exists. You do that too much. With Chuck, and-and with Serena - and you're doing it now! It's not fair. Y-You can't just... just do that."

Nearly begging, Dan stood up, quickly pulling on his boxers. He didn't know what to expect. Would she accept that she shouldn't push it all away? And, should he even expect her to? "Please, Blair, you're not even listening to me!"

Blair's eyes flashed. Dan noticed her bottom lip trembling, just the slightest, her shoulders quaking, as if every wall was breaking down around her until he saw the truth shining in her eyes. "_I'll _leave." She blindly chose a hasty selection from one of her drawers, tightly pulling the sheet around her again and slamming the door behind her.

Bleak with defeat, Dan stumbled towards his clothes, unknowing of why his eyes were watering and his chest was crippling. Nothing made complete sense, neither the images that still assailed his brain, reminding him of the moment his resolve died in the sweaty sheets and coveting darkness. Blair's eyes, imploring and desperate and sad all at once, filled his head. None of it made sense. None of it breached his understanding.

Planning on chasing after her, on following her into the darkness where he dared not go alone, seemed a better idea than sitting around doing nothing.

"Blair?" Dan called hesitantly, wary of finding Chuck waiting for him. There was no answer, not even the tiniest hint of a sound. Eyes catching the sight of a yellow note on the counter, Dan reached it, half-fearful, half-anticipated.

Writen in Blair's elegant script were the words, _Going to see Serena. You were right. I need to fix this._


	10. Chapter 10

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I'm sorry about how long it took to grind this out. I had gotten down 500 or so words, but lost the file. I finally have muse thanks to some new Dair set pics. (;

* * *

_Such fluorescent, you must wonder how I sleep.  
Shaking spells end, as the cuts lined up my knees.  
I guess I'm weightless, as I tape my eyelids up,  
but now I wonder that I may have ran too far._

_**the dark side of indoor track meets  
falling up**_

"Say it again." Serena tucked a stray wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, pressing the other ear to Chuck's warm chest. She could hear the steady, soothing drumming of his heart, and the intake of his breaths. She closed her eyes and focused on the monotonous sounds. "Just one more time, and I won't bother you again." She twisted her head around so she could catch Chuck's eye, her blue gaze teasing and twinkling, betraying the lie.

Chuck leaned down to drop a swift kiss into her hair, one hand threading alternatively through the locks splayed across his chest. He let out a low rumble of laughter. "How many times has that been now?" Both of them had seen to have lost count in the passing time.

Serena shrugged innocently, unable to be bothered by the query. "Six? Seven?" she guessed with a propped brow, ignoring his skeptical gaze and nuzzling her nose into his heated skin. She breathed in deeply; he always smelled like something elusive, undeniably sexy and mysterious. "I don't know," Serena admitted, her words muffled.

"I love you, Serena," Chuck murmured into her hair, just another number to add to the list. "That's eight." He smiled down at her and Serena grinned right back, euphoria settling like butter in her stomach.

Chuck began to shift underneath Serena's head. She looked up, a frown quickly replacing her smile. "What's wrong?" Instinctively, she reached out with one hand, but Chuck gently pushed it back. There was a glimmer in his brown eyes that proved, at least to Serena, that it wasn't anything serious.

"I have to go to work, love," Chuck sighed resignedly, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks. "I'm sorry. Money has to be made or Blair will know I'm lying." He rolled out from underneath Serena, ignoring her meek protest, and stood at the foot of the bed. He leaned down to press another kiss to her forehead, smoothing the worried rumple forming their. "I'll see you soon," he promised.

Serena bit her lip. It was nearly impossible to stay angry with Chuck for too long; she figured this out long ago, when he had rushed out of the room to take a phone call from Blair. Although it pained Serena and even made her jealous to know Blair was still a priority, it had only taken a few murmured apologies and butterfly kisses down her neck for her to give in and forgive. Chuck always knew how to get his way with her.

Still, Serena found herself pouting as Chuck turned away from the bed, tossing a towel over his shoulder and whistling lowly as he entered the shower. It was never fair when Chuck had to leave her. It seemed the more time they spent with each other, the harder Serena found it to let him go at the end of the weekend.

"Chuck?" Serena called after a moment's hesitation, still needing to hear the words of comfort he'd give. Serena often got into the distressed moods, the times she believed that she was doing the wrong thing, and Chuck was never going to leave Blair. "I love you!" She hoped the three words would magically make him hear her, but the hiss of the water and the slow tune he whistled seem to drown out her voice.

Serena's heart thumped rapidly, dangerously close to giving her an anxiety attack. With a shaky breath, she forced herself to remain calm. She slipped out of bed, pulling a hefty book from underneath the bed and carrying it carefully over to her computer desk; it had been ages since she'd been reduced to the worn pages to calm her. She gingerly turned the first page. It was a scrapbook she'd decided to put together of her stolen moments with Chuck, though she'd lost interest in it long ago.

The first page was filled with innocent pictures of open-mouthed kisses and laughing faces. Serena let a smile grace her lips, feeling her heartbeat already decreasing into a soft, natural hum. She flipped absently through the book for some time before she felt a hand on her shoulder and lips on her neck.

Serena squirmed with contentment. "Chuck, stop, that tickles," she laughed, though she had no intentions of stopping him. She swatted his hands from her bare skin. "No, you have to go to work." Even as she said it, Serena turned and captured his kisses with a giggle.

Chuck smirked. "You seem keen on having me out of here," he teased, pulling away with a languid grin stretching across his features. "I'm worried you'll have company."

Serena rolled her eyes and hopped out of the chair, pulling the sheet and wrapping it around her tightly. "Oh, yes, Chuck." She blinked playfully at him. "Every time you leave my suite, I have guys coming in left and right, taking your place." She reached for another kiss.

"I don't doubt it," Chuck rumbled. For a moment, he allowed himself to get carried away with their kisses, before he pulled away suddenly. Serena gave another subtle roll of her eyes. "Really have to go," Chuck sighed regretfully. "I'll see you soon; I promise." With a last, chaste kiss on her cheek, Chuck swung out the door with only a wave of his hand.

Serena slumped into the seat, defeated. Chuck's visits always lasted too short, the span between them stretching out for far too long, leaving Serena exhausted and anticipating for their next encounter. Her entire life seemed to revolve around Chuck these days. Although Serena knew it was somewhat dangerous to depend so much on a man - a_ married_ man, no less - she found herself unwilling to come to terms with the near-obsession. Sighing woefully, she pushed the scrapbook back under her bed.

After Serena was dressed to go out - meeting her pseudo "friends" for drinks - and combing her hair carefully in the mirror, she noticed her phone chiming incessantly from underneath one of her pillows. Serena paused from her methodical brushing to retrieve the messages; five calls and three texts from Dan. Serena frowned. What could possibly be so important? Dan knew never to bother her when she was with Chuck, yet the calls were ranging from that time span.

Deciding it wasn't important enough, Serena tossed the phone back onto her bed without bothering to check the messages, returning to her mirror. One, two, three - in calm, delicate strokes, she counted the sweeps of her brush. Sometime while she was counting in the fifties, a tentative, quiet knock on the door heralded the arrival of room service.

"About time," muttered Serena. To the door, she called, "One minute!"

When Serena flew open the door, she hadn't expected to see Blair there. Why should she? _How_ could she? So, perhaps, the reason why she said not a word and fixed her jaw firmly rather than greet her old friend was because she was simply too shocked to say anything, not because she was, for whatever reason, angry at Blair.

Honesty was never one of Serena's strong subjects.

"Hello, Serena." Blair's demeanor was meek and mousy, not at all like the commanding, respectful presence of Serena's old friend. "It's... It's good to see you again." She offered a weak half-smile, wringing her hands behind her back.

Serena swallowed thickly, working her mouth silently but unable to release any words filling her throat. Clawing the blockage out of there, Serena nodded stiffly and greeted, "Blair," in the simplest way possible. She couldn't even explain in detail what she was thinking; guilt, hatred, jealousy, wonderment, all in rapid-fire succession through her bloodstream. Did Blair know about Chuck and Serena? What would she do if she knew?

Blair managed to meet Serena's gaze defiantly, showing a sliver of her old self. "May I come in?" she asked boldly, straightening her shoulders. She appeared much more relaxed at Serena's returned greeting.

Casting her eyes searchingly over her room - just in case Chuck had left anything suspicious - Serena turned back to Blair. Whirling thoughts tumbled endlessly in her head; _don't let her in, she has the man you love; she was once your best friend; what if she knows?; what if she's come to apologize?_

It seemed too far-fetched that Blair was there to reconcile with Serena, after so many long years of absence; if Blair really felt awful for walking out in Serena's time of need, she would have said so weeks later, months later, _anything_ but years after the initial argument. Blair was the type to hold grudges, and Serena knew this well, but it was unlike Blair to completely abandon all notions of friendship for years. Weeks, possibly, but any longer was blasphemy.

Serena shook off the thoughts with a visible jerk of her head, granting Blair inside with a cold, emotionless gesture of invitation. She knew it was wrong of her to treat Blair in such a way - perhaps not _wrong_, per se, but increasingly _impolite_ - yet she couldn't find the sympathy in her bones. Everything had been turned to ice, and all she cared to live for was Chuck, inconsequentially Blair's husband. There would be no friendliness found here; Serena forced herself to believe it.

Blair walked into the suite as if treading on eggshells, each step carefully poised and delicate. Serena found herself forcing away a smile at the sight; it was so like Blair to be precise even when the situation didn't entirely call for it.

"I'm sorry."

Serena whipped around, shock enveloping every visible feature at Blair's sudden admittance. The former Waldorf shook her head miserably, her swath of brown curls hiding her face. "I'm so, so sorry Serena," she sighed. "I was such a bitch to you, and you didn't deserve that from me. I was angry that you didn't tell me; that you thought it was something you had to keep from me..." She drew in a quick breath. "I didn't realize that you just needed me there, and I just walked out on you."

Serena curled her nails into her palm, digging tiny half-moon marks into the skin. She fancied she could feel hot, angry blood dripping down her hand. "Yes, Blair, I needed you," she allowed with a half-shrug, trying her best to look indifferent. "But now I don't. I've changed. You'll never change, and you'll still be selfish."

Blair shook her head. "I've changed beyond what I believed possible." She let out a hollow, humorless laugh, her smile not quite meeting her eyes. "In ways I never wanted to change." She seemed lost in a recent memory for a half-moment before turning her attention back to Serena. "But this isn't about me. I just wanted to apologize. I-I've left so many things in the past, things that shouldn't stay there."

Serena listened in silent shock.

"...and I haven't even realized that they should be resolved," Blair went on, eyes still dropped contemplatively on the carpet. "I was hiding them, and now they have to break free." Serena pretended not to see the slight wetness glazing Blair's eyes as she sniffed dismissively. Blair lifted her chin arrogantly. "But I've said it now. I'm sorry, Serena." She cleared her throat. "I shouldn't have to say it again."

Somewhere inside of Serena, in the foreign places of her heart, she felt her resolve crumbling. She felt those carefully-constructed walls very slowly begin to tear down, brick by brick, shattering through her defenses. She blinked her eyes shut; in the same heartbeat, memories flooded. Blair had always been there. Despite everything, despite all the fights and lies and stupid gossip, Blair had been loyal. Serena had forgotten that so long ago; Serena had forgotten that Blair would've stood by her, whatever she decided to do.

In the next moment, Serena's eyes were wide open, and rather than seeing her lover's wife in front of her, she recognized her childhood friend; her _best_ friend. The jealousy melted, the hatred suddenly dissipating, until all that was left was Blair. Serena's confidante and Serena's safety blanket.

"I'm sorry." The words were muffled into Blair's jacket this time, both arms securely locked around her tiny body. "I should've trusted you..." Each word caught like a thorn in her throat. "We were both wrong." She squeezed tighter still, tears dropping stains into the expensive carpet. "No one is to blame."

Blair released a breathless, relieved laugh. "Serena, there's something I want to tell you." There was a tiny pause as Serena waited half-anxiously for the following words. Blair seemed to brace herself, pulling back from Serena's enveloping hug for a moment and blinking desperately at her. "I made a mistake and slept with Dan Humphrey last night." The words were rushed out in a single breath.

All at once, images of the deal - the _plan_ - wrapped like dark tendrils around Serena's mind. Instinctively, she clutched at Blair to keep from swaying unsteadily. _The plan._ The plan was still in motion. Everything she'd ever wanted was about to come true. Serena's blue eyes raised just a hairbreadth more, taking in the familiar sight of her old friend, gazing curiously up at her. Bile rose like a tidal wave in her throat, choking back any words she could say.

Checkmate. Serena had won before the game ended.


	11. Chapter 11

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I'ma just stop apologizing, and give you your chapter, yes?

* * *

_Nobody said it was easy_.  
_It's such a shame for us to part_.  
_Nobody said it was easy_.  
_No one ever said it would be this hard._

_**the scientist  
coldplay**_

The soothing familiarity of the park filled Dan with a sudden sense of comfort, lulling him from the fast-paced hours of the day. While sitting peacefully on a bench overlooking the lush greenery, Dan could forget everything, and lose himself in the innocence of childish laughter and the trickling of the fountain.

Dan's fingers drummed idly on the splintering bench, every muscle tense as if waiting for something to happen. It'd only been a few hours since he woke up next to Blair, and found the yellow pad of paper with those innocently ominous words scripted. He checked his phone again. No missed calls or messages. Dan tried to call Serena, to warn her that Blair was coming, to be sure that Chuck wasn't there when Blair arrived. But he'd received no word, and all he could do was wait.

Waiting, it seemed, drained Dan far more than any sort of effort could. Even though the park was calming, he couldn't help but wonder if it was merely the lull before the crashing storm. Scenarios tumbled rapidly in his head; Blair, encountering Chuck in Serena's suite, devastation, despair... The look in her eyes was only too easy to imagine. Dan winced.

Joyful screams of children echoed in Dan's head, jarring him from the dark thoughts. He turned to watch. A small boy was tossing around a ball with two others, one little girl and another boy. Their laughter forced a smile on Dan's face, and he was so entranced at their innocence that he barely noticed his phone begin to ring.

Fumbling wildly, Dan reached hastily into his pocket and flipped open the phone. Disappointment wore down his features; it was Naomi, not Serena. He knew it should had concerned him how little he cared for a talk with his wife. How could he possibly go on feigning when he'd slept with another woman - someone as rich and important as Blair, no less. He idly contemplated letting it to continue ringing; make her believe he was busy, or couldn't hear her.

Deciding against it at last, Dan braced himself and answered. "Hello?" He hoped he was only imagining the slight tremor in his voice, the way he choked a little on the word. "Naomi?"

There was pregnant silence on the other end, heavy and thick, saying nothing but meaning everything. Naomi was done waiting; she was done believing, and Dan could hear it in the quietness of her line. "Hi, Dan." Even so, her voice was soft and warm, placating. "What are you doing?"

The trilling of laughter continued on behind Dan. "I'm at the..." He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. "I'm nowhere. Nowhere important. Why?" He realized too late that he sounded defensive, as well he should have. _Why pretend?_

Naomi sighed. "I'm sure you know already," she murmured. Dan expected anger, fiery resentment and jealousy to pour from her lips, but there was only a quiet sense of resignation. He never was able to hide anything from her, and she knew. She knew he'd done something unforgivable. "I just - was it..." Naomi struggled to finish her sentence. "Was she worth it?" The slightest hint of longing tinged her words.

Dan closed his eyes, trying to remember back to the night, savoring what little details he could recall. Just as before, he could only remember few things, and everything else was a blur of rapid movement and darkness. It was like a storm, almost; he could compare it as such, with flashes of lightning and consequences following it. As a result, windows were shattering, walls were tearing down.

In the end, all he could say was, "I can't talk now." It was a lame excuse, a transparent one. His previous silence said everything.

"All right." Even as Naomi said this, the call stayed idle, and Dan could still hear her heavy breathing, her prayers, all through the fuzzy transmission. "When you get home - _if_ you get home... I want a divorce. Okay?"

Dan swallowed. "Okay." And it was all that would be said about it. Naomi never had a temper; she was far too placid for tantrums, and she tended to take things as they were. Dan should never have expected any sort of fit. "Nay?" He tried once more, saying her old favorite nickname, hoping she'd feel something, say something. He wanted her to make him feel closed, make him feel like he was a bastard. He wished she would explode at him and hate him.

"I'm still here," Naomi whispered, but before Dan could reply, his phone chimed into his ear and he glanced at the screen. All at once, relief and fear surged through him. _Serena._

"I've got to take this." Dan closed his eyes briefly, counting slowly to himself before switching calls. He knew it'd be the last time he heard from Naomi. "Serena?"

This time, there was no silence, no hesitance. Serena's commanding, cold voice barked, "Dan. I need you at my suite in 10." There was a bite to her words that would normally surprise Dan - she was always in a calm, content mood after her days with Chuck - had he not known that Blair had come by.

Dan opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the line dropped, and he was left staring frustratedly at his phone. _Call ended._

It had taken a bit more than 10 minutes for Dan to arrive at Serena's hotel, but within a few moment's time, he was knocking at the door to her suite. He half-expected to see evidence of murder on the printed carpet outside the door, or the stench of a human carcass wafting from her room. It all seemed far too normal, considering Blair had finally come back.

The door flew open with an icy breeze. Serena held a tall glass of champagne in one hand, her hair free of pins and falling lazily over her shoulders. Dan eyed her skeptically. She was dressed to go out, but he guessed she wouldn't be leaving the suite tonight. "Dan." A cruel smile curled the corners of her lips. "Come in." She turned without waiting for him.

Dan took an uneasy step into the room, glancing around for signs of a fight. Her suite was as pristine as usual. Nothing even looked remotely out of place; even the bed was made, and there was a half-full bottle of champagne on the counter.

Serena swept by Dan, seemingly uninterested in his presence, even though she'd called him there. Dan was unsure of how to act. He'd begun to grow used to the new Serena, the changed version of the blonde he'd loved for years, and he expected to know why she was acting too calm, too collected. But this was something new; this had been brought on by an event he could only guess at.

"Serena," Dan started carefully, choosing his words wisely, "I don't know what you're playing at. I'm... I'm not sure what's going on here, and I guess you must have a reason for bringing me -"

"The deal's off." Serena whirled around as she said this, shoulders straightened importantly and blue eyes steely, as if challenging him to object. "I don't want anything to do with you anymore. You'll be paid for your efforts, but I'm done. I'll find another way." Her voice was in smooth control, bold and indifferent. "You'll be able to go back to Naomi; everything will be normal again."

Dan blinked, startled. He definitely didn't anticipate that, and the idea of returning home - to what was left of his life with Naomi - suddenly didn't appeal to him anymore. A fierce anger boiled in his stomach. After all he'd given up for Serena's plan, after all the choices he was forced to make, it was all in vain. He had no future with his wife, and the woman he'd begun to want fervently would stay with her cheating, lying husband.

"That's not fair," Dan protested, unknowing of how to voice the rapidly-spinning thoughts. "It's not fair to Blair, and... and it's not fair to you." Desperate now, Dan played the only card he had left. "You love Chuck. You want to be with him!"

Serena's eyes dropped to the floor, and her expression was pulled into a tight mask. "You said it yourself," she said softly. "He probably doesn't want me anyway. He still loves Blair." The cold malice left her voice, to be replaced with weariness.

Dan hesitated, tentative. He knew for a fact that Chuck was lying to Serena and Blair both, and though his conscience ached at the thought of encouraging Serena into a harmful relationship, he felt he must. "Blair and Chuck _need_ to split up," he insisted. "I've... I've been around her a lot more lately. She doesn't deserve someone who will lie to her, even if it's not about you. This is best for Blair."

"The best thing for Blair would be to stay with her husband." Serena lifted her chin. This voice implied no objections, no arguments. She'd made up her mind. "Don't try to change my mind for your own selfishness," she added wryly, catching his eye.

"It's not for my own selfishness!" Dan argued heatedly, though he supposed it was half-true. "This is for Blair. It's because of her you're doing this, right? Do what's best and break them up, even if you don't end up with Chuck!"

Serena pursed her lips. "It'd be best if you left now, Dan."

Dan stared disbelievingly at the blonde, waiting for her to suddenly change her mind, hoping she would come to her senses. Serena had always tried to be loyal; Dan knew this more than anyone. It must have been tearing her apart to realize that Blair should always have come first, and Chuck was only getting in the way of their friendship. Dan's anger eased away. In a way, he was relieved the affair would no longer continue, but the relief was drowned out in frustration that Serena wouldn't help him break Blair and Chuck apart. It was for Blair's own good, but Serena refused to see it that way.

With a wary sigh, Dan shook his head and obediently listened to Serena, taking slow, deliberate steps out the suite. "Enter the money in my account. I'm sure you'll find it without my help." Pausing contemplatively, Dan added, "Naomi and I are over."

Dan tensed, half-hoping Serena would react. He wanted to hear her pity him, hear her urge him into life after love, and all that. Perhaps, if he heard from the one person who always mattered that he wasn't terrible for wanting someone else, he wouldn't hold an ache at his own unfaithfulness. He wouldn't hate himself for wanting Blair when still technically with his wife.

Serena said nothing, and Dan was forced to carry his weights with him, leaving her be with her own woes.


	12. Chapter 12

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I'm boycotting season three. Jus' sayin'. Also: this is short. Don't shoot me.

* * *

_It's 4:03, and I can't sleep;  
without you next to me, I toss and turn like the sea.  
If I drown tonight, bring me back to life.  
Breathe your breath in me. _

**_if you only knew  
shinedown_**

It seemed as if Dan had taken the same route hundreds of times. He again found himself in a cab, outside The Empire, a weight in his chest and his fine already paid. The driver said nothing to him, only waited patiently for him to leave the car. Dan hesitated. It had taken too much out of him to listen to Serena.

With a resigned groan, Dan slammed the door shut and stared up at the hotel, knowing instinctively which window belonged to the Bass's. For the last time, he would come to their penthouse.

Dan pushed past the revolving doors and broke away from all doubts, slipping into the elevator and waiting for the sixteenth floor.

The doors slid open, and once more Dan entered the penthouse. The familiarity of it unnerved him; he shouldn't feel so at home in a place that wasn't his. He realized with a jolt of shock that he felt more comfortable _here _than he likely felt in his own home.

Shaking off the disconcerting thought, Dan went to find what little clothes he had. All was silent, which also should have concerned him; surely Blair was back by now. As if in answer, when he was packing up his clothes, Blair appeared at the doorway of her bedroom, eyes downcast. He could see her from his peripheal, dressed elegantly, as always, eyes red and puffy.

"Where are you going?" The question came softly, hesitantly. Blair's eyes watched him fervently, almost tenderly, and Dan understood at once that she didn't want him to go.

Still, Dan couldn't think of what to say. Their entire tryst - relationship, whatever the hell it was - had sparked from lies, endless lies. Dan had lied, Chuck had lied, Serena had lied; he couldn't think of one innocent person, and it scared him. It scared him that he'd allowed himself to be sucked back into this life, when he could have been home right now, with Naomi, never knowing what it was like to wake up in Blair Bass's bed.

"Uh..." And still, Dan didn't know what to say. "Home." It seemed easy enough, a one syllable word that said everything at once. "Naomi... she took me back. I got the call while I was at the park."

Blair's eyes widened a fraction, and her lips moved agape for a single moment. "I thought she wanted a divorce," she accused, though the natural malice in her voice was covered in woe. "So, what... you're just leaving? Like that?" Her bottom lip trembled and she crossed her arms, hiding the weakness. "You don't seem too happy about it."

Before Dan could answer, he heard the toilet flush from behind him, and glanced back to see Chuck emerging from the bathroom, oblivious. Chuck glanced at the bags, then back at Dan. "You leaving at last?" he asked, smirking. "Surprised your wife took you back."

Although the words were meant as a joke, Dan found himself hating Chuck more than he could deem possible. Keeping the facade, he laughed quietly and said, "Yeah, I... guess I'm pretty lucky this time around."

Chuck smiled humorlessly, walking past Dan to whisper something in Blair's ear. Dan strained his ears to hear it, but caught nothing, and by that time Chuck had slipped into the bedroom. Blair's eyes were dropped to the floor again.

Dan took one last look at Blair. He hated that there was this sudden rift; he had always come from a world where sex meant something, and it wasn't just something no one talked about afterward. To Dan, his night with Blair was special, and it wasn't something that could cause such an indescribable tension. Nothing was simple when it came to the Upper East Side. Dan should have remembered that.

With a resigned sigh, Dan slung his suitcase strap over his shoulder, shouldering past Blair and pushing the button for the elevator. His toes tapped impatiently; he could feel her gaze on him, hear his heart beating in the cacophonous silence.

"Dan!" The word was a fierce whisper, her voice low so Chuck couldn't hear. Dan turned warily to find her standing only a few inches away, eyes wide and desperate. "Please, don't go. I don't want you to." Tears gathered in her lashes, and her hands wrung behind her back. Every word seemed to pain her.

Dan's heart ached with regret. Serena's words echoed in his mind; he would have to leave her alone. He was not going to participate in ruining Chuck and Blair's marriage. It was no longer his place, and he must accept it.

"What do you want me to do?" Dan whispered back, shoving an arm into the elevator door to keep it from closing. "Stay here, and let you cheat on your husband?" Their fight from the same morning was rehashed once more, bringing into harsh light what they already knew. "You know what you have to do. Why won't you do it?" Anger and distress fueled his words, his heart thudding against his chest.

Blair bit her lip. "It's not that simple." Her gaze evaded his. "I still... no matter what he does..." Blair sighed, hiding her crumbling face in her hands. "No matter what he does, I still love him. A-And I don't know _why_."

Dan knew the answer even before he asked the question, but his mouth worked before his brain could understand: "Do you love _me_?" The word _love_ seemed such an important idea, and somehow it was hard to believe it could sprout from a love of books and a passionate night under the covers. If so, their love began from lies, and lies had built everything around them. Soon, it would all come crashing down, and Blair would be stuck from under the rubble.

Blair's eyes widened once more, and a flush rose from her neck to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, yet thinking better of it, she firmly closed it shut again. With a tiny, brisk movement, she shook her head, meeting his gaze bravely, defiantly.

"Okay then." Dan had already known the answer, and so it came nothing of a shock to him, though he couldn't understand why it meant so much. "I have to go. Goodbye, Blair." He wrenched his gaze from her and slid into the elevator before the doors could close, catching a last glimpse of her anguished eyes as she stared after him.

It was much better this way. And with Serena's money so graciously dumped into his bank account, Dan could find a house in New York, far away from the Upper East Side. He could live in wealth and find a job, forgetting that he was living a lie. And, just as Serena wanted, Blair and Chuck would never break up, and his conscience would be clean.

Even as the thoughts replayed themselves over and over in Dan's head, they never lost their hopefulness. If anything Dan knew, it was that hope was a frivolous idea in this world. Even if he decided to live a happy life away from the mindfucks of Upper East Siders, he would never be able to forget he slept with Blair Bass, and he would never be able to stop wondering what would happen if he'd stayed.

As soon as it had begun, Dan's stay was over. Serena's plan had gone down the drain, and truly nothing had been accomplished. He was back on square one.

Dan jumped into a taxi, handing the driver a wad of cash from his pocket, a payment from Serena. "Where to?" asked the driver, glancing down at the generous amount. "This could get you to Canada if you wanted to." He chortled obnoxiously.

Dan shook his head. With a forlorn glance at the top of The Empire, he looked into the rear-view mirror and said, "No, just to Brooklyn."

The driver shifted into gear, his eyebrows arched with surprise. "Someone like you in Brooklyn? Fine clothes, fine amount of cash, and coming from that hotel?" He laughed again. "Seems a bit silly, doesn't it?"

Dan realized the driver was right; he didn't even look like Brooklyn Boy anymore. A wry smile found way to his lips. "Yeah, I guess it does. I grew up there." And with that, The Empire hotel faded from view. It was true: he didn't belong there. It was time he returned to his roots.


	13. Chapter 13

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **Ugh, I'm sorry. The wait was partially because I wanted to create a gap in the timeline (to show time has passed, for those who read this on story alert) and partially because I refused to find muse. I'm sorry. Also: I finished writing this chapter and saved it, but for some reason FF refused to acknowledge it. I had to start over AGAIN. FFFF.

* * *

_May angels lead you in.  
Hear you meet my friends.  
On sleepless roads, the sleepless go;  
may angels lead you in.  
**hear you me  
jimmy eat world**_

The morning wasn't entirely too bright, even for spring. Serena awoke underneath a sliver of sunlight in the late morning, eyes fluttering open slowly; almost at once, a jackhammer slammed repeatedly through her skull. The daily migraine she had come to expect had come instantly. With a halfhearted groan of discomfort, Serena rolled over onto her stomach, pressing her face deeply into the cotton of her pillowcase. She wished she didn't even have to pretend to be alright; she wanted nothing more but to remain in bed and sleep the day away, to not face reality.

For a moment, Serena entertained the idea, a sad, broken smile appearing on her lips at the thought of simply laying there all day. It would be the perfect escape, just to close her eyes and pretend everything was back to "normal."

Before Serena could even do so, a shattering ringing sound interrupted her thoughts, and she was reminded all over that there was a world outside of her bed. Lifting her head just slightly, she glanced at the screen of her phone on the table beside her. _Blair._ She vaguely knew she should answer - she'd become closer to Blair recently - but she couldn't bring herself to move her arms.

_What's wrong with you? _

Serena dragged the phone to her, flipping it open and pressing it swiftly against her ear. With a final deep breath, she turned over. "Blair." The greeting was falsely cheerful, and she was fervently glad her friend wasn't here to see her crumbling face.

On the other line, Serena could hear Blair's lighthearted laughter, and she envied her friend's happiness for a moment. "You sound _so _much better," Blair teased jokingly. "How's the flu?" Serena hated the sympathy in her voice; after all she'd done, she felt totally undeserving of any form of pity.

Shaking off the thoughts briskly, Serena sat up in her bed. "A bit better," she lied easily. Once more, she felt the tiniest twinge of regret in her stomach for lying to Blair. After their reconciliation just recently, Serena had promised herself not to lie anymore, but old habits died hard, and she needed to find an excuse for being such a recluse.

Almost at once, Serena winced as the thoughts assailed her again, a fusillade of angry words and broken voices. She found herself unwillingly remembering it all again - the crack in her voice, the sorrow in her heart. She'd had to do it; it was the only right thing to do, and she wanted to be a good person again. She wanted to remember what it was like to look in the mirror and know herself; she wanted to remember what it was like to be loyal.

_"I'm ending this." _Though her voice began strong, Serena's own heart was breaking, and she had only managed to hold up after a few more seconds. The phone in her hand was nearly crushed in a vice grip; the tears in her eyes refused to fall. _"Us, all of it - I don't want this anymore." _She'd hoped to make her voice cold enough for him to believe, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't.

There had been a long, tense pause on the other end, as if Chuck was processing her words. Then, slowly, carefully: _"Why?"_ He seemed genuinely curious, and even, Serena thought, hurt. The very thought made her want to hate herself.

Serena had blinked at herself in the mirror. _"I don't love you anymore."_ The words were easy to say. If she closed her eyes and filled her mind with glorious blankness, she could say the words even without meaning them. Saying them was easy, but believing them was hard. She watched herself in the mirror and touched her toned skin with one hand. So far, she still didn't know who that was. One day, she knew she would.

_"Serena..."_ The way Chuck's voice dropped, from curiosity to pain, was something Serena could hear even through the other line. _"What did I do wrong?"_ he pleaded with her, a crack in his voice.

Serena closed her eyes. _"Nothing. I just changed."_ How easy it was to lie to him. How hard it was to realize what she just said. Serena knew she had to hang up now, put the phone down and not hear his voice again, if only to stop him from hearing her sadness. _"Don't call back." _She breathed evenly; if she breathed, she might be alright. _"Goodbye, Chuck."_

She slammed the phone shut and placed it gently on the table, watching it hopefully. _Call back._ Serena couldn't help wishing the screen would light up again, gleam incessantly in the darkness and demand she answer him.

But there was nothing.

"Serena?" Blair's concerned voice brought Serena back to present-day. "Serena, are you alright?" Blair asked once more, the care in her voice making Serena's heart ache with remorse. How could she ever end up with a friend like Blair again, after all she did with Chuck?

Serena knew she had to tell Blair. She had been planning on doing so for weeks now, but she could think of nothing to say. It was the right thing - of course it was. But how could she? How could she ever open her mouth and spill the truth, after being forgiven by Blair less than a month ago? Everything was always going to end as her fault. Selfishly, she wanted to continue on as if she never loved Chuck, but her incessant conscience refused to let her do so.

With a deep breath, Serena placed the false enthusiasm back in her voice again. "Oh, I'm fine," she replied (another lie for the record book). "But..." Inhale, exhale; if she breathed, she would know everything would be alright. As long as she could still breathe. "Actually, do you want to come over?"

Blair paused. "Why?" There was no suspicion in her voice, only a deep concern. "I'm not busy, but..."

Serena stood up, feeling solid ground beneath her feet. Somehow, it was comforting that she wasn't always going to be swaying unsteadily. Finding her reflection in the mirror, Serena blinked at herself, watching it blink back. She'd find herself. It would only take time.

"You'll see. But it's important." Serena swallowed thickly. "Please."

Blair's voice came, confused yet unafraid, almost at once. "Sure. I'll bring some soup or something." She laughed at her own little joke, and before Serena could pretend to laugh back, the line went dead and she was left staring at the phone.

All of this was her doing; Serena was absolutely sure of it. She'd spent so long denying that she had changed, so long telling herself she was still Serena van der Woodsen, the carefree girl she'd been as a teenager. But she knew now it was a lie, all of it. She'd destroyed Blair and Chuck's marriage; she'd destroyed Dan's life. She forced him into something he didn't want to do. She didn't know how she'd forget all that she'd done.

Serena was never supposed to be the bad guy. That was never her intention. Sleeping with Chuck was, at first, a mistake, and she felt sure that falling in love with him was a mistake, too. She'd ignored it, because ignoring things was easier than coming to terms with them. But now, it was all in the open, everything she'd done, and she knew she'd never be able to be herself again if she hadn't told the truth.

It was only a few minutes later that Serena heard a knock at the door, a familiar, soft knock that announced Blair's presence. Serena had not even begun to rehearse what she could say; how would she ever be able to prepare herself?

Serena swung open the door, a fake, cheerful smile fixed on her lips as her friend hurried inside. Blair grinned at her. "Looks like you're better," she observed, eyes warm and friendly and everything Serena didn't want at that moment. "Anyway, what is it that you need?"

"Nothing. I just..." Serena closed the door carefully, taking yet another breath of air. All she needed to do was open her mouth and inhale sweet, sweet air. She was alive. Her heart was still beating. Everything would be fine. "I need to tell you something. And I need you to listen."

Almost at once, Serena could see Blair's smile falter, her eyes shifting from bliss to suspicion and worry. "Serena -"

"Chuck cheated." Serena didn't know if it was the best route to go by, simply blurting out the truth before Blair could get a word out. It was too late; Serena could see the hurt traveling down Blair's face, starting first in her eyes and then to her upturned lips.

Blair shook her head, sighing. "I know."

Serena started at that, taking a quick step back. Her heart skipped a beat. "You... know?" Suddenly, it was like Serena couldn't breathe at all, her heart hammering and her lungs crippling. Nothing functioned properly.

Blair looked up, smiling brokenly, a mask to put on before the world. "I've caught him a few times. He sleeps with them all. Model-types, always; tall and thin and beautiful." _Not me,_ Serena could hear behind Blair's words. "I already knew. But... thank you for caring."

Suddenly, it clicked.

Everything made sense.

_Other girls._ Chuck had been with _other girls_ along with her. Serena felt her heart grow numb, everything tingling with a crumpling sensation. All she could feel was the dull pulse of her blood, pumping softly and quickly through her veins. It all made sense, but at the same time, nothing made sense. There were other girls. Of course there were.

Tears pricked behind Serena's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had to remain strong. "Blair..." How could she ever add to her friend's misery? How could she ever tell her the truth?

Blair blinked wide eyes back up at her. "You don't need to say anything else, Serena. Thank you." She laughed disbelievingly, shaking her head, as if she'd already come to terms with Chuck's infidelity, and was unable to allow it to bother her.

"No, Blair..." Even through her numb, unfeeling lips, Serena managed to speak, managed to form an intelligible sentence. "Not just other girls. He..." Don't cry. Don't cry. Stay strong. "I had an affair with him, Blair."

The words were out; Serena couldn't swallow them down again if she wanted to. All she could do was watch, and wait. All she had to do was breathe and blink and make her heart continue to beat. Parts of her felt like they would stop working if her brain wasn't constantly telling them to.

Serena watched the pain consume Blair very slowly. It started in her eyes, as the calm, accepting sorrow in them was replaced with interminable grief and anger. Her friend stood up, hands balled into tiny fists at her sides, face inches from Serena's. For the moment, more fury was in her eyes than anguish. Serena saw it coming and was not surprised as Blair's hand came in sharp contact with her cheek.

Serena's head flew to the side and she closed her eyes swiftly, allowing the physical blow to sink in.

"How could you?" Blair's voice was soft and quiet, but filled with a rage Serena had never heard before. Throughout all their fights as kids, Serena never thought she'd hear Blair quite so enraged. It never made her feel more insignificant.

Serena still refused to meet Blair's eyes, expecting more words, expecting curses and more slaps and even tears. But there was nothing, only the hard thuds of Blair's heels on the carpet and the slamming door immediately afterwards.

Out of habit, Serena glanced into her mirror. Her cheek was red, an imprint of Blair's tiny hand pressed into her skin, a mark of her anger and agony. Serena once more blinked at herself, pressing her fingertips into her skin, hoping she could somehow look different in the mirror, somehow more human, somehow more _Serena._

Yet still, Serena knew it was no use; she still found the face unrecognizable, the eyes too distant, too lost.

It would take time, she knew. It would take so much time.

Serena was willing to wait.


	14. Chapter 14

**couples: **Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena(?) , some mentions of Nate/Jenny

**summary: **It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.

**author's note: **I have no excuse for this being so late.

* * *

_Well, I'm like a kid who just won't let it go.  
Twisting and turning the colors in rows.  
I'm so intent to find out what it is.  
This is my Rubik's cube; I know I can figure it out.  
**rubik's cube  
athlete**_

Dan didn't come back because he thought it would change things – that if he simply arrived at her doorstep once more, heart in his hands and eyes on hers, Blair would leave Chuck and jump into Dan's outstretched arms. To think _that_ was almost like believing in a fairytale. Dan could only dream.

So that wasn't why Dan came back, and that wasn't why he ended up retracing his steps to Serena's suite. Rather, it was the once-more ominous message sent via his e-mail.

Dan berated himself along the way for even listening to it. He lived quietly in a new apartment complex just around his old home, closer to Rufus that way. He had been so ready to look forward and never have to remember the past, or the stupid things he'd done for a high-school love. Serena always had him wrapped around her finger. Dan swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

He was always so very keen on repeating past mistakes, and so Dan knocked quietly on Serena's door.

There was a clatter from behind the threshold before Serena swung open the door with flourish. There was a bottle of vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and she swayed to her own beat as she grinned at him. "Danny!"

"Um –"

Before he could protest, Serena dragged Dan into her suite, pulling him to her and holding him flush against her chest. There was something wild in her eyes, something that died a long time ago.

"Remember when you used to touch me here?" Serena asked softly, placing his hand on her thigh. She laughed airily into his mouth. "I miss those days. I miss high school." She shook her head. "Fuck, I miss high school."

Dan had to try very hard to not choke on the smoke in the air. "I – yeah, I remember that." He inhaled desperately through his nose, ignoring the stench. "You look like you've been partying."

His attempt to distract Serena worked for a moment. She giggled and twirled in place. "Party of one," she sighed. "Nobody wants me anymore. Lonely, lonely me."

Dan blinked at her. "Serena… what happened?"

Serena gave him a glare. "Didn't I tell you, Danny?" she whispered softly. "I called it off. I told Chuck _bye-bye_. And then I told Blair. And now – _oops_!" She stumbled over a discarded heel on the carpet. "Oh."

Dan struggled to form words out of the thoughts in his head. "So, you told – wait, Blair. Blair knows?" All at once a surge of revulsion and sickness tossed in his stomach, and he briskly shook his head to clear the dizzy spots from his eyes. "You told her. What did she do? What did she say?" _Did she divorce him_?

"I…" Serena frowned. "She slapped me and now _poof_. No more Blair and Serena."

"Serena, you need to tell me if she –"

"Why does it matter?" Serena asked suddenly. She stepped closer to him until he could taste the liquor on her breath. "She's never going to get over _Chuck._"

_She won't, or you won't? _Dan didn't ask. He swallowed down the acid that rose in his mouth. "You don't know that."

Serena shook her head. "No, I _do_ know that." She licked her lips and reached for the plucky fabric of his jacket. "We should go back to us. Remember being us?" Her eyes watered with memories and maybe tears that she wouldn't release. "I liked _us_."

"That was a long time ago." Dan carefully took her hands in his, pushing her gently away so he could breathe again. "You're a wreck. You don't need me right now… you need some coffee."

Serena let out a wispy sigh. "I created a monster out of you." She clucked her tongue. "Innocent Dan and the story of how he broke Blair _Bass_'s heart."

"I – I didn't –" Dan closed his mouth abruptly. "I didn't break anyone's heart." The bitter taste of the lie burned down his throat. _Naomi. _But not Blair, he rationalized; you can't hurt someone who never loved you in the first place. Blair didn't love him. Blair only loved Chuck.

Serena blinked slowly. "She loved you." She hummed a quiet tune, closing her eyes briefly and swaying to the rhythm of her own music. "She'll never tell you when she is," Serena went on, scarcely audible, "but she falls in love at the drop of a hat."

Dan's heart sped up in the cacophonous silence. Serena couldn't be telling the truth. This was, of course, _Serena_ – she said so many things when she was drunk, most of them without sense, some of them blatant lies. But he couldn't help it. There was something that spread through him like a wildfire, warm enough to last him ages yet not enough to make him burn.

"She didn't love me," he argued softly.

Serena pretended to have not heard him. "And you…" She reached desperately for him again, clutching onto his shirt. "Rejected me. _Me._ Who are you not to want _me_?" She met his eyes defiantly, bravely, and he thought he could see into her heart. "But you love her. Everyone loves her."

Dan's tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "No, I don't –"

"I hate you." Serena dipped her head. "Tell me why I'm wrong for everybody. Nate. Chuck. _You._"

Dan pressed his face into Serena's shoulder. "You're not wrong for me," he assured her. "I'm just – not right for _you._" But it was simple, too simple to admit. _Blair._ She was all that he could see when he closed his eyes, all that he wanted and hoped for.

"Stay with me?" Serena begged into his ear. "I loved you once. Stay with me."

Dan slowly let go of her, prying the vodka from her hand and placing it atop the highest shelf. "Yeah." He ushered her to the bed where she curled up under the sheets, watching him with those blue eyes that could once make him do anything she wanted.

Dan realized for once that he was doing this for _himself_. Not for her.

_I'm free,_ he realized at once, watching her drift off to a fitful sleep. He was free from the chains of a high-school love, free from the ridiculous notion that he had to follow her every whim and desire. Dan wrapped himself in a blanket on the recliner, watching as the sun melted into the horizon at the center of the city.

It made sense that things would come to a full circle here, with the suite bathed in the orange light of evening's rise. Serena barely stirred once as she dreamed, and Dan wondered if she would ever truly find happiness. She always seemed to look too far for it, when she should be waiting.

In the morning, Dan said to himself before he, too, let the comforting waves of sleep fall over him, he was going to go see Blair.

He was going to tell her he loved her, like a lovesick poet confessing to a cold woman made of ice. If she denied him, he would wait for her. If she didn't –

Well, that's as far as Dan has gotten on his makeshift fairytale, but he's never been opposed to making things up as he goes along.


End file.
